Rise Above the Ashes
by WizardOfMusic
Summary: With Senior Year off to a peaceful start, the search for Jordan Parrish's identity continues in full swing. But when Stiles steps into the mystery, he uncovers a truth that enlightens his whole perspective on the world he's in, and he discovers just how crucial a part of this world he truly is. Rated T for slight language and the fact that the show is called "Teen Wolf".
1. Throwing in the Towel

**_Hi :)! So I'm very new to the FanFiction community, and this is my first story! I've had fan fiction ideas floating around in my head, so I figured I should actually gather the guts to put an idea in writing. I had recently binge-watched Teen Wolf and love every bit of it. I've always wanted a certain creature to appear in the show and love that some fans have theorized that Deputy Parrish could be this creature. This story is basically about both Parrish's and Stiles's struggles with self-discovery, and it also toys with the question of what exactly are the boundaries of the supernatural world. Hope you enjoy it; reviews would be so wonderful, especially with me being new to this._**

 ** _P.S. This is set after season 4; I've really tried to keep it as much canon as I could, so if some parts are off, I apologize ahead of time._**

 ** _P.P.S. Hope you enjoy my chapter titles; some of them are references that fit quite well in my opinion ;)._**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with Teen Wolf. I also do not own dementors (wouldn't want to anyway).**_

 **Chapter 1: Throwing in the Towel**

WHACK! Many of the officers jumped and instinctively reached for their guns, anticipating an attack on the station; after all the crap they've had to deal with lately it wouldn't be much of a surprise. But alas, the only evidence of a disturbance of any kind was a tiny book laying on the floor and a very frustrated Deputy Parrish laying his head on his desk. Finally fed up with finding nothing, he had slammed the book shut and chucked it against a wall where it bounced off and landed in its current location.

Jordan Parrish had spent days and days poring through the bestiary, hoping against hope that he'd find even the tiniest bit of information that could give some sort of inkling as to who he was…supernaturally that is. He knew who he was as a person; he was loyal and kind and always strived to go above and beyond to serve his community. And he did it selflessly; he didn't care about being placed on any pedestal, though getting praise from Sherriff Stilinski always warmed his heart. Yes, he definitely knew himself…right?

But he often found himself questioning just that. Sometimes he debated whether he really wanted to find out at all. Whatever… _creature_ he was, how would that affect him? Would he end up hating himself and do something drastic like jump off a roof? Or would his ego get so inflated that he becomes just as much of a monster as that obnoxious Peter dude? He shuddered at the thought; a lot of the creatures in the bestiary looked pretty grotesque and, well, "evil". He couldn't handle himself if what he was was just as disgusting as those illustrations.

The fact that he still hadn't found anything in the damn book didn't help matters at all. He was afraid that not being recorded meant that he was some new, freakish mutation, far more dangerous than anything hunters or anyone had ever faced. The sane part of Jordan knew he was blowing this way out of proportion, but fear is one of the worst enemies a person can have, and right now it was possessing the deputy almost as much as a nogitsune could. He was so consumed in his worry that he hardly even noticed the sheriff walk up to him until he heard his voice hovering above the desk.

"You all right, Parrish?"

And that was the wake-up call. Raising his head at Stilinski's question, Jordan realized just how distracted he was. He bore the uniform of a hero not a villain, and his job was to protect the people of this town, not destroy them. He wasn't going to let any of this nonsense mess with his head anymore. No more werewolves or banshees or electric foxes or whatever the heck was out there in this crazy metaphysical world. He could be some bizarre crossbreed of a unicorn and a dementor for all he cared. Right now, he is a human being, and he sure is going to act like a good one.

"Yes, I am perfectly all right; I just let myself worry too much, that's all," he replied with cool collection.

The sheriff sighed, "Look, I know these past few weeks have been pretty…crazy. I still don't completely understand all this magic mess going on…"

"Supernatural," Jordan corrected.

"Sorry?"

"Not magic. Supernatural I can handle making some sort of twisted logical sense. Magic…is just crossing a HUGE line."

Stilinski shook his head, "Whatever it is, don't beat yourself up overanalyzing it; just keep moving forward and do your job as well as you've always done, which includes _relaxing_ when you need to," he leaned a little closer so the other officers wouldn't hear, "You're one of the best guys I've worked with; nothing can ever mess with that, except you. So _take care of yourself_ , and don't lose faith in your instincts. I mean, whether I'm fighting a snake-like person or an actual snake-human, I do pride myself on my officer instincts, " he chuckled and stood up straight, "Just do me a favor and go _home_ and go to _bed_."

Jordan smiled for the first time in a while; he could always count on the sheriff's wise words to cheer him up. "I think I might just do that." He got up from his seat and gathered his things. As he did, Stilinski noticed the bestiary on the ground. There was an unsettling air of familiarity about the book; he had never seen it before, yet he felt like he should know what it is. He picked it up and went to hand it to Parrish, "Hey, what's this?"

Parrish mentally freaked out for a second before hurriedly thinking of a white lie to disguise the book. "Oh that? It's just something Lydia lent me to read. But honestly I've found it a bit too annoying. I'm probably going to get it back to her tomorrow or something."

The sheriff raised an eyebrow suspiciously but didn't press the matter; Jordan was stressed enough as it is. "So that's where that ruckus came from earlier… Yeah, off to bed. Now."

"Yes sir," the deputy replied, grabbing the bestiary and walking out the door to his car. He hated lying to Stilinski, but even though the sheriff knew about supernatural creatures, he couldn't bear having him find out that Parrish, one of his best colleagues, could be a potential supernatural monster. The older man had enough on his plate with his pseudo-son being a full-fledged werewolf and his actual son being once possessed by an insane demon of darkness. Stilinski, who was so brave, who in the matter of months has become a sort of father figure to the young deputy. No, Jordan can't give him that much more worry. And so he made himself forget everything that Lydia suggested to him about finding his identity, and before he started the car he pulled out his phone to send a quick text to the young girl:

 _Deputy Parrish: I've decided to stop the search. I'm sorry, but there are more important things I need to do than try to figure this out. Come to the station after school tomorrow to pick up the bestiary._

 _Deputy Parrish: Thank you for all your help, and for believing in me. It was something I really needed._


	2. We the Kings

_**Hi again :)! Thanks for the views and reviews! This is super exciting for me and I'm still trying to process that my writing is actually out there, haha! Anyway, my plan is to post a new chapter every night, so the story should be complete in a little over a week (before the season 5 premiere :D!).**_

 _ **In this chapter, there's a lot of focus on the kids. It sort of establishes where the current pack is at. Fair warning, Malia and Kira aren't really featured much in the story itself, but they're referenced here and there :). Speaking of references, yes, the title was inspired by the band We the Kings (which I do not own, btw). It has nothing to do with the story, other than the title referencing how the teens are Seniors now and are slowly taking on their roles as leaders (especially Stiles ;) ). Also, I love that Jeff Davis puts so much emphasis on friendship; romance is there because it's always there in life, but the friendships are what really make the pack strong, so I've been trying to emulate that :).**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy this chapter! Again, reviews are much appreciated, whether they are comments on the writing or speculations on the story. I love theorizing and discussing storylines. And I do have a canonical question: where exactly does Malia live? Perhaps I should know this, but I wasn't quite sure if she's still with her adopted dad or elsewhere. Either way though, she still goes over to Stiles's place to sleep sometimes, which I find endearing :).**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with them. I also do not own The Breakfast Club or their featured song. Maybe I'm over-disclaiming :P. Oh well, better be safe than sorry.**_

 **Chapter 2: We the Kings**

Stiles Stilinski groaned in his bed as a hand was gently shaking him awake. "MmmmMalia, I'm too tired for this now."

"Ok, a little bit TMI," said a much more male voice than Malia's.

Stiles's eyes fluttered open and focused on an amused Scott McCall before yelping, sitting up straight and yanking his arm away. "Jeez, Scott, what're you doing here? Where did Malia go?"

Scott gave a slightly offended look. "Dude, I'm your best friend; do you even have to ask that? However, to answer both questions, Malia's at Lydia's place for the same reason I'm here…IT'S SENIOR YEAR!"

A small smile tugged at Stiles's mouth, but he rolled over to curl up on the other side of his bed. "Can't I just celebrate by skipping my first class of Senior Year?" he mumbled.

Scott knelt down beside the bed. "Dude, three years ago we were hardly anything! We were the most awkward invisible guys at school. But look where we are now; we're kings now! Everyone in school actually looks up to us! Everyone thinks we're the coolest people!"

Stiles turned to face his best friend. "Scott, it's you. You're a True Alpha; it's natural for everyone to look up to you."

Scott shook his head; he wasn't dealing with this, not today. "Enough, Stiles; you've done and gone through so much more than I have over the past two years. You're uber smart and a lot more skilled than you think, and you definitely deserve to be on top of the pyramid. Dude, you're the genius and I'm the athlete, and together we're gonna rule this school! Whaddya say?"

Stiles glanced at the hand that Scott had extended and finally grinned before grasping it to pull himself out of bed. "As long as I can go through the year without being possessed by an evil convoluted maniac again, I'm in." The two pseudo-brothers laughed and got ready for school, both now eager to discover what Senior Year would bring them both.

"""

As Scott and Stiles walked through the doors of Beacon Hills High School, you could almost picture a montage of _The Breakfast Club_ 's 'Don't You Forget About Me' playing in the background. Three years ago they were bumbling, awkward kids. But now they were tall and confident and had an air of strength about them as though they had fought through a messed up four-year war, even though no one but their own friend group knew exactly why. The pair wore sincere smiles as they walked through the hallway, turning every underclassman's head. Ok, so maybe that last part was sort of made up in their heads, but it was still a nice feeling being finally respected as experienced, mature students…ish. They knew as well as everyone else that they would be forever goofballs, and they were proud of that.

"Hey Scott!" Kira Yukimura had snuck up behind the young alpha, linking her arm with his.

"Hey!" he exclaimed back to her, the two sharing a short, sweet kiss. Stiles didn't even bother hiding his snicker. Kira snickered in response, "Stiles, why don't you go on and reunite with your top model over there?" Stiles followed the direction of her nod to the lockers and gaped at what he saw.

If Malia Hale wasn't pointed out, Stiles wouldn't have even recognized her. Her hair was gently curled, and the makeup she wore was not strong enough to look flashy, but prominent enough to be noticed clearly. She was wearing dark capris, a navy blue blouse, and a fashionable black jacket. Stiles found himself wandering over to her, not really thinking of what he was saying.

"Well, hel-lo ther-"

"NO. Not another word. If you dare say I look hot I will claw your eyeballs out," Malia threatened through clenched teeth. Stiles though just responded with an amused look.

"Look, I know you're not really used to this, and I am sorry I kind of forced you into this against your will, but it's the first day of Senior Year! We've got to look our best!" Lydia Martin commented at the locker beside her.

"You said it was an emergency! I thought you predicted another death or something!"

Lydia thought about this and realized with a sting of guilt that she didn't consider that. "Oh wow. I really am sorry. But I had to get you here somehow, or you definitely wouldn't have come on your own. Besides, I didn't even transform you; I just enhanced your own qualities. You're just as kick-ass as ever, and now you look it too!"

Malia gave a warm but fake smile and muttered through her teeth, "I really hate this."

"Oh relax," Lydia replied, "It's only for the first day; after that you're free to your own fabulous style. Honestly, this was really just something to do to get all my jitters out and clear my head this morning." Her demeanor dampened for a second, and her friend was quick to notice. "You ok today?" the were-coyote inquired, "You smell a little tense."

Lydia gave a look that said it was no one's business. "I'm fine, don't worry; I'm just a little on-edge still from all that's happened." Stiles, Malia, and Kira were still a little suspicious, but the naïve, oblivious Scott brushed it off and patted the banshee's shoulder. "Well, all that drama is behind us now. It's Senior Year, a year that's finally starting off normally, so let's just enjoy it and be kids for once in our young lives." He chuckled, and the others joined in as the first bell rang and they headed to their first classes of the year. Lydia however was still occupied with thought, and as she sat in her seat in the classroom, that somber text kept repeating in her mind.

 _I've decided to stop the search…more important things…Thank you…for believing in me. It was something I really needed._

Not something he needs, something he _needed_. Which means he doesn't need it anymore; he doesn't need her help or faith anymore. She didn't want to mention it to the pack, for they'd just reassure her that he's just too busy or needs a small break from the supernatural world and he'll be back on the search in no time. But Lydia knew there was more to it. Deputy Parrish wasn't just tired, he was _broken_. She was sure he didn't give up the search out of priority but out of despair; she was familiar with the feeling all too well. There were times when she considered just giving up wondering who she was and accepting the deputy's silly assumption that she was a "psychic". But she pushed on, and therefore was able to help save people more than she ever imagined she could. She had to persuade Parrish to reconsider; she had to make sure that he discovered whatever great powers he possessed so that he could be an even more incredible officer than he already was.


	3. Special, Not Abnormal

_**Hi all :)! Once again, thanks for all the support! Glad you're enjoying the story so far! From now on the chapters might get longer; one near the end of the story is considerably long (whoops :P), so bear with that. This chapter starts digging into Stiles's role in this story. As you can probably tell by now, he's my favorite character :P, and I love writing about him. Plus Dylan O'Brien is just uber awesome in every way, so you know ;).**_

 _ **Also, I would LOVE to see a backstory for Parrish in the new season or later ones. What was his past, and how did the supernatural, if any, play a part in his childhood and schooling?**_

 _ **Although I do think Stydia would make for an adorable relationship, I do not mind at all that they're currently just awesome friends. I really love their friendship; I love that two seemingly opposite people ended up learning so much about each other and forming such a strong connection :). I also like the idea of a human having a supernatural spirit of sorts without necessarily having specific powers or being non-human, hence the elaboration on Stiles. Anyway, enjoy chapter 3! Again, reviews are much loved :D**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. Besides, I know Jeff Davis and the cast and crew can own it wayyy better than I :).**_

 **Chapter 3: Special, Not Abnormal**

Lydia cautiously walked into the police station; she was a little anxious to find the state Deputy Parrish was in. But then she saw him fiddling with papers at his desk, looking more normal than anyone in the past two years. And that's how she knew something was up.

"Deputy Parrish?" she called out, walking up to his desk. The young man turned at her voice and smiled; despite him being not that much older than the teens, they still addressed him like they would a teacher or doctor, and he appreciated that.

"Hey Lydia! How's it going? How was your first day of Senior Year?"

Lydia thought about the question for a moment before answering, "Honestly, it didn't really seem all that special. I went to class. I ate lunch. I hung out with my friends. I came here. That's pretty much it. But at the same time, that's what made it special. After two years of insanity, today was actually…a _normal day_."

Parrish chuckled, "Yeah, it's nice isn't it? I suggest you hold on to that feeling; take advantage of it. Don't let any more crazy crimes derail you from homecoming or prom or any other high school adventure."

Lydia smiled at this, "What was Senior Year like for you?" She figured if she made him all sentimental and gushy, her mission would be more likely to succeed.

And just as she presumed, Parrish leaned back in his chair, grinning fondly at the memories slowly resurfacing in his head. "Oh it wasn't that different from any other year; nothing changed much for me status-wise. But I was glad I was finally part of the older crowd. I had more of an opportunity to help other students and really make a positive impact at the school. I was more able to look after the younger kids." He paused for a moment and laughed at himself, "I guess you can see why I pursued law enforcement."

Lydia eyed him fondly. "You really have a passion for protecting. It's great to have someone like you in Beacon Hills."

Parrish internally sighed. He got a sneaking suspicion that he was being buttered up for something (and he had an uneasy hunch for what), so he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the reason he called over the young teen so he could get this whole thing over with. "By the way, here's the bestiary. Again, thank you so much for letting me borrow it; it was…quite interesting to say the least."

Lydia crossed her arms, refusing the book. She wasn't going without a fight, and Parrish didn't expect her to. "I'm not giving up, you know."

"Lydia…"

"No! You say that you don't have the time for this, but you and I know the real reason you're quitting. I've been where you are; I know what it's like to feel lost. But we're so close to figuring it out! We just can't see it yet. Do you know how many human beings can be burned alive in a flaming car and live to tell the tale? None! You are capable of PHENOMENAL things; imagine what you could do when you actually find out what those things are!"

"I'm not in it."

"What?"

"This book? The one that you said had every creature recorded by the hunters? I'm not in it. There's nothing in here about fire-surviving creatures at all. The closest thing I saw was something about a fire kitsune, but I've checked every photo I own and none of them show me with a glowing fox surrounding my head. Let's face it: I'm undocumented and unidentified."

To his surprise Lydia wasn't too phased by this. "Deputy, this was just a record of the hunters. Who says there aren't more kinds of creatures out there? We just need to expand our search."

"Lydia, please," Jordan begged, his frustration slowly rising.

"Use the Internet, use the library; there's got to be something supernatural out there that connects to you…"

"LYDIA!" Parrish exclaimed. All heads turned in his direction, and he shook his head and waved them off, moving a little closer to Lydia and lowering his voice, "You don't get it yet. I don't _want_ to connect to anything supernatural. I like being human; here I have my strength and my intellect to do my job and protect this town, and I don't need anything else to do that." He paused for a second before revealing the true fear that was on his mind, "I don't know who I am as a body, but I know who I am as a person; I _like_ who I am as a person, and I don't want any uncharted supernatural force to change that."

Lydia took a deep breath before her last attempt at persuasion, "But what if it changes you for the better? What if the powers you have actually help you protect these people? Today might have been normal, but it won't stay like that for long; we both know that. And when chaos does strike again, we need people like you to help us fight for good, fighting at your _highest potential_."

But all Jordan did was stand up and place the bestiary in her hands, and with a pang of sadness she closed her eyes, knowing the battle was lost. "Why do you care so much?" the young deputy asked.

She opened her eyes, slightly surprised at how true the question was. She thought for a minute before the perfect example popped into her head. "Until two years ago, I hardly even noticed Stiles existed. I was the popular chick, and he was the quirky nerd. But he knew the whole time that there was more to me than colorful skirts and bright lipstick; he saw the gift in me before I saw it in myself. And as we struggled through this messy time together, I saw so much more in him than I ever imagined I would. He really is an incredible guy with incredible abilities; sometimes the things he does seem more supernatural than us. But I wouldn't have seen that, and neither would he have, if we didn't push ourselves and each other to embrace our potential, all of it. Stiles believed in me, I believed in him, and now I'm going to believe in you, because I know what you have is truly amazing."

Parrish smiled; despite his unchanging stance he was still touched by her words. "Well, if you believe in me, then believe that I will be ok." He stood up and led her to the door. "Plus, you've forgotten one small detail. Stiles is extraordinary, and he's a _human_. I am going to be ok." Lydia stood and watched Parrish head back to his desk before walking out, far from accepting defeat. She knew that there had to be a way to get through to the deputy. And thanks to her earlier example, she realized the one person who would be perfect for the job.

If Parrish was so insistent on being human, then perhaps he just needs a _human_ 's persuasion to change his mind.

"""

The next day at school, Lydia cornered Stiles before lunch, much to the boy's dismay.

"Stiles, we need to talk."

"Oh come on! Do we have to do this _before_ I get my food?" he whined.

"Yes, we do. I don't want to update the rest of the pack yet because I think having too many people pushing will scare him off for good."

"Him?"

Lydia took a breath, "Deputy Parrish."

Stiles frowned a little, "Wait, you found out what he is?"

"No," she replied, "I haven't found anything, and neither has he." She breathed again, "You're going to."

Stiles frowned again, "You're kidding me, right?"

Lydia was appalled. "He saved our lives, multiple times! Or have you forgotten that little detail?"

Stiles was quick to set things straight, "Don't get me wrong; I love the guy! He's really brave and has been more than helpful. Plus he's one of the few people who actually accepted all this supernatural madness so quickly. People like that are ones you want to keep around. What I mean is that you might be taking this whole identity-discovering thing a little too seriously."

Lydia couldn't believe this was coming from the man who loved mysteries more than anyone else. "You haven't seen how he is; he's on a borderline mental breakdown because he doesn't know what he is. And now he's denying any more attempts to find out. He's afraid he's going to become some monster if he does, even though we both know he couldn't be."

Stiles gave her a serious look. "Two years ago, when Peter went on that crazy quest to find Scott, he confronted me and offered me the bite, an offer I turned down. And my "relationship" with the Nogitsune last year further confirmed my reasons for it. Yeah, the super hearing and agility and getting to smell someone's emotions were kind of appealing. But I knew how much of a burden it was; I saw it on Scott, and though he can handle it, I know I couldn't."

"Stiles-" He raised his hand to stop her before continuing, "Sometimes I do wish I was as fast as Scott or could predict stuff like you or do cool things with light like Kira. But," here he remembered his best friend's words from the first morning of school, "I have some pretty decent skills of my own, and if being supernatural would mess with that, I don't know if I'd want to be supernatural. Maybe Deputy Parrish feels the same way. There's nothing wrong with being human. There's nothing wrong in not wanting power."

Lydia wore a look of anger with the ghost of tears behind her eyes, and Stiles realized he had crossed a line. "Do you know how many times I wished I didn't have these powers? I'm a banshee, I can sense when someone is about to _die_. Who wants something like that?"

"Lydia, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to-"

"But I eventually accepted my powers. Because of you. You were the one who kept convincing me that though I may not be a psychic, I was _something_. You kept pushing me to use my powers because you knew how important it was and you believed in me and my capabilities. You convinced me that I wasn't abnormal; I was _special_. That as morbid as these abilities were, they were part of who I am and I could use them to help others. That is _your_ gift Stiles; you _believe_ in people and what they are capable of." Stiles still wasn't completely convinced, but luckily the banshee had one more card up her sleeve, "How do you think Scott became a True Alpha? Would he have done it on his own? Or with Derek? He got through this because you were at his side, always believing in him, always loving him, no matter what. That is why I'm talking to you; you're the only one who can get through to Parrish. Please, Stiles; please believe in him so that he can believe in himself."

Stiles had frozen; he was completely thrown off by her suggestion that he had a hand in Scott's promotion in status. But with all the things she said, he realized with reluctance that he couldn't walk away from this.

"Damn my love for mysteries," he muttered.

A smile started curving on Lydia's face. "So you'll help figure out his identity?" she asked, even though she knew she had won.

"Yes yes, I'll start researching during free period."

Lydia squealed and threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, "Thank you thank you thank you! You are seriously fantastic!"

"Yeah thanks. One condition though," he explained in a serious tone, "We get lunch. NOW."


	4. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

**_Hi :)! Thanks again for the support! This is an exciting chapter; Stiles has dived head first into researching Parrish's identity, and he has a huge revelation about just that! The title is in reference to Rowling's book because Harry Potter plays a crucial role in this chapter ;). Also, "Mythical Monsters of the Medieval Era" was totally improvised on the spot. If there's a book out there that actually has that title, that'd be kinda funny :P._**

 ** _So maybe I'm mistaken, but my personal vibe from the show is that the focus is on the supernatural, which while it does bend the laws of physics, it still has some limits. I always felt there was a difference between that and magic. And even if there is magic in the show, I don't think the characters really recognize it as magic. But that's just me, and that propelled my idea for this story._**

 ** _Yes, I did include the quote by Dr. Deaton that was in the Season 5 promo; that belongs completely to the series and its creators. I'm so excited that this season is questioning the limits of the supernatural world, so another part of this story explores what this quote could possibly mean...eeep, June 29 can NOT come any sooner :D! Anyway, hope you enjoy chapter 4!_**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. I also do not own Tolkien or J.K. Rowling. Although, I do own a copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", though I don't own the rights to it :P.**_

 **Chapter 4: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them**

People often found Stiles in weird locations in even weirder positions. So naturally when he was laying on his back in the middle of the library with his feet propped up in a chair and a book propped up on his chest, he did get a few funny looks. He didn't notice of course; he was completely engrossed in an artistic but sort of sketchy book titled _Mythical Monsters of the Medieval Era_ …supposedly.

He knew he promised Lydia he'd help find out who Deputy Parrish was, but the longer he spent researching, the less he was trying. All books that mentioned the supernatural described basically the same things that were mentioned in the bestiary, so that was definitely a dead end. So Stiles eventually ended up perusing random books of mythologies just for the heck of it. He even browsed through books like Tolkien's novels or even Rowling's _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ for his personal fascination. Heck, he even looked at fables and parables of different religions, mentally joking that perhaps Parrish was some prophet sent to purge Beacon Hills of its sins (Stiles had guffawed out loud at that, much to the irritation of the librarian). Finally he ended up on the book he was looking at now. He was currently flipping through a chapter dedicated to dragons and their different species and was laughing on the inside. There were some pretty cool creatures in here, and some of them did sort of relate to Parrish's abilities, but for Parrish to be any of these creatures would mean he would have to basically be magical, and Stiles wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Yeah, the supernatural world is quite incredible and seems to bend some laws of physics. But up was still up and down was still down. Magic was different; it was something very mysterious that could turn the universe on its head if it so desired to. It could not only bend every law of physics but break it, so therefore it couldn't be possible in this world. It just couldn't be.

But at the same time, the teen couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, like there was information he needed that his mind denied access to. Maybe he should open his mind a little bit more. Lydia did say he had the gift to believe. Maybe he just needed to _believe_ like he did when he was spreading mountain ash that one time. He realized how silly he was sounding and shook his head; this was too much profound thinking for one free period. And with that, Stiles closed the book with a large sigh and decided to give up for the day. But only for the day. He didn't know what Parrish was exactly, but he was _something_. And he knew that he'd eventually figure out what that something was. Because he was Stiles, and that was _his_ power.

"""

It was a quiet and cozy evening in the Stilinski household. With no pressing cases needing dire attention, the sheriff was able to make it home in time to have dinner with his son. They only talked a little, but they didn't need to; having each other's presence alone was enough.

Soon the father decided to break the long but warm silence, "So, how's the first week of Senior Year going?"

Stiles laughed, "Everyone seems to be asking that lately."

His dad chuckled back, "Well we know it's an important year for you guys. Though honestly it's not too different from every other year, it's still the year that every teenager is most excited about."

"Oh absolutely! There's so much we get to do, Dad! Including prom!" The young man's eyes grew wide when a sudden realization hit him, "Dad, I get to go to prom! And I'm actually going to have a date! One who actually likes me!"

The sheriff beamed at his son's enthusiasm; he knew the hyperness became an issue sometimes, but secretly he loved when Stiles was bouncing and rambling like a ten-year-old kid. The tragedy of losing his mom and the strain of the past few years forced the boy to mature a lot more than he needed to. So when his father caught glimpses of his youthful energy here and there, the older man treasured it for all it was worth. "I'm glad to hear that. Malia is a wonderful girl, even if she can be a little…wild."

"Dad! She's becoming more and more in control every day. Before graduation she'll be acting like any other teenage girl."

The sheriff gave a knowing look, "No, she won't. She's never going to act like a normal teenage girl. And that's why you love her." Stiles froze at this, and his dad realized he was treading uncharted waters. "Like her! I mean, that's why you like her so much."

Stiles grinned a little goofily and a little nervously, "Yeah, I do; I really _like_ her and probably wouldn't change a thing about her." He decided it was high time to change the subject, "So how was your day at the office?"

The sheriff sighed, "I wish I could tell you that I can't tell you because you know I can't discuss cases, but honestly it was kind of boring. All there was were reports of petty robberies and people speeding and car accidents that happened because the drivers were just plain stupid." He chuckled in spite of himself, "Gosh, I can't believe part of me actually wants to be dealing with werewolves and hunters and berserkers again. I mean, it was hell and all, but it was a lot more interesting than someone robbing a flower shop. The only guy at the office showing the most interest in these cases is Jordan. I've never seen someone so invested in things like these. Oddly enough, he seems to be almost enjoying himself; I'm starting to get a little worried, actually."

Stiles looked up, "You mean Deputy Parrish?" The wheels instantly started spinning in his head. If he can coerce some sort of information out of his dad, maybe he could get closer to determining what exactly the young deputy was.

"Mhm, he's been tense after everything that happened last year, but I think there's something more to it. It's almost like he wants to shut out everything strange or unusual from his life completely."

"He's a great officer though."

"Oh yes, he's the best," the sheriff responded, grinning with pride, "I've honestly never met any other colleague as hardworking and dedicated as this guy. He's seriously the most loyal person I've ever met, and knowing you and Scott, that's DEFINITELY saying something." Stiles paused in thought; there was something uncannily familiar about that statement; where did he hear of that before, and why did something so vague ring a bell? "You know, he's very fond of you guys. He keeps marveling at how strong and brave you all are for your age." He smiled fondly at his son before continuing, "I'm glad he's a lot more willing to believe and accept this than I was. He's a good friend to you guys, and vice versa."

"Dad, what did you just say?"

"I said I'm glad he's more willing to believe-"

"No, before that."

"He's very fond of you guys?"

"Nooo, before that; you mentioned loyalty or something."

The sheriff was starting to get confused. "I said he's the most loyal person I've met; I can always count on him for anything. Weirdly enough, I don't think he would ever betray me, even if he wanted to…"

An answer was vaguely beginning to dawn on Stiles. "Like he would walk through fire to save your life…" he trailed off. Suddenly, he remembered something he came across in the library, something that was fiction, but was now starting to make perfect sense. His head whipped up in the direction of his room as he thought of the books on his bookshelf, and the actually crucial information those books contained. "No, it can't be," he whispered to himself.

"Ok, that's a little too extreme; yes we risk ourselves to protect each other in the force, but that's a bit graphic of a metaphor to use…Stiles?" The boy wasn't listening anymore; he was hurriedly gobbling up the last of his dinner. "Stiles, you all right there buddy?"

"Yuh yuh, M allruht," he mumbled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. He swallowed and took a swig of water before continuing, "I just realized I have some homework that I really need to do. Thanks for dinner; love you Dad!" And with that he leapt out of his chair and dashed up the stairs to his room. The sheriff sighed to an empty dining hall, "Love you too, son." He had reached a point now where he didn't want to know what his kid was up to.

Meanwhile, Stiles had barreled into his room, the gears in his head running at full speed. As he took a look around, his heart rate started slowing down, giving him a chance to focus on what he was looking for. He slowly stepped towards his bookshelf and traced his fingers across the spines of the books. He soon found his copy of the _Harry Potter_ series. His fingers still tracing, they paused on the fifth book of the series, right on the very last word of the title. He still couldn't bring himself to consider this as a possibility, but it was the one that made the most sense. He was about to pull the book out when he realized that wasn't the volume he needed. Instead he grabbed the second book and thumbed through it until he found the scene he wanted. As he read it, pieces of the puzzle started to fall together, and he realized how all the signs were pointing to this. The relationship with fire, the unswerving loyalty, how Parrish survived being burned and emerged covered in ashes without a scratch, almost as if he was…reborn.

He was skeptical at first when he started his research. He didn't think creatures like this existed, even in the world he knew. They were so incredible, so mind-blowing, that he wasn't sure he wanted creatures like that to exist. However, reading the _Harry Potter_ book starting filling him with such nostalgia from his childhood; he remembered reading this after his mom died and wishing this creature could be there with him so that it could mourn her death with him, and maybe its tears could somehow heal his wounded heart.

Suddenly Stiles realized what Lydia meant by powers being a gift. He was willing to encourage Parrish's choice for ignorance; he had high respect for the deputy and wanted him to be happy and at ease. But now he saw what Parrish was missing out on; if he really was the creature described in this book, what he was capable of was not just amazing, it was _miraculous_. And if evil were to attack Beacon Hills again, having something like this could do wonders for the battle. Stiles then remembered something Dr. Deaton mentioned to the pack a little while back when they were discussing if there was still danger of the Nemeton drawing any more unwanted supernatural forces to town. Deaton had pondered this and voiced a thought that had toyed with his mind lately:

 _"I'm starting to wonder if the rules to our supernatural world aren't as rigid as I once thought."_

Stiles gazed over the cover of his book as he reflected on this. Maybe the universe wasn't as up and down as he thought. Perhaps magic really wasn't such an impossible thing.

If that was the case, then none of them knew what storms they would end up facing. The pack needed Parrish, _all_ of Parrish. Stiles needed to tell him the truth, convince him of it. And he needed to do it soon.


	5. Out of the Ash that Covers Me

_**Hi guys :)! Thanks sooo much for all your support! I love hearing your speculations and ideas about the story! This chapter is the big reveal to Parrish, and the title is actually inspired by the poem "Invictus" by William Ernest Henry. The first stanza reads, "Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, for my unconquerable soul." It's a very powerful poem to me, and I replaced night with ash to represent Jordan's identity kind of being uncovered from the "ashes" that once hid it. Wow, deep :P.**_

 _ **Ok, so the information about the creature is word-for-word from the phoenix page in the Wikia website of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (I tried putting the site address here, but the text box isn't letting me for some reason)**_ ** _. I in no way own this information, but I strongly felt that the research Stiles did had to have come from an actual resource, so I found information pertinent enough, and the source is credited here. Also, I hope any Sherlock fans out there enjoy the quote I put in ;)._**

 _ **Also, I loved writing in Stiles's example of ADHD. I feel that just because someone has a different mind, that doesn't mean they don't have their own special abilities. Stiles's distracting nature has actually propelled him to learn about so many things, hence him being really smart :D. Anyway, that's that; enjoy chapter 5!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. I also do not own Sherlock Holmes or Harry Potter Wikia or Invictus (though Invictus is very close to my heart :) ).**_

 **Chapter 5: Out of the Ash that Covers Me**

"STILINSKI!"

Stiles's wandering mind snapped back to attention. His teacher had unfortunately caught him when his train of thought was speeding at ninety miles per hour, and he was extremely annoyed. The teacher walked up to his desk and placed both hands on it, hoping against hope he could reason with the boy.

"Stiles, you are an incredibly bright student. You get some of the best grades of the class! Why, _why_ don't you act like it? Are you bored? Is there something bothering you? Am I bothering you?"

"No, sir," replied the teen, quickly coming up with a smart answer, "Just ready to start working on my research paper." The rest of the class groaned, reminded of the ominous gargantuan task they had to complete this year. The teacher however remained stoic and narrowed his eyes at the kid. "Well, your paper can be done during free period or at home. When you're in class, you _pay attention_."

"Yes, sir," Stiles responded as the teacher walked back to his desk. Once the lecture resumed and the attention was diverted, Lydia leaned over from her seat beside Stiles and whispered excitedly, "You've found something, haven't you? That's why you've been all jittery and unfocused during class."

For some reason, Stiles didn't want to admit to the girl that he actually made a discovery. "That's the thing; I have found squat. I've searched every book I could think of and have found pop-diddly-squat. It's actually starting to worry me, and I'm starting to see how Deputy Parrish was so close to a mental breakdown."

"Don't worry, just keep searching; I'm sure we'll find something eventually."

"Oh yeah, I'm going to look in the library again during free period. That's what I'm anxiously waiting for." The teacher whipped his head around at the sound of their whispers, and the two shot back to their original positions. The teacher narrowed his eyes again, but turned back. At that point, Scott leaned over from his seat behind Stiles and whispered out of earshot of Lydia and impressively Malia (though the latter was so focused on trying to make sense of the hieroglyphics she was supposedly seeing on the board that she hardly noticed anything else), "So what's really going on?"

Stiles hadn't even bothered hiding his heartbeat from Scott. Lydia may not want the rest of the pack to know just yet, but he wasn't hiding anything from his best friend. "I've been doing research on what Deputy Parrish might be…and I might have found something. Huge." Scott's eyes widened, understanding the gravity of those words, and after a pause, Stiles continued, "Remember what Deaton said the other day? About how the rules of the supernatural world might not be-"

"-as rigid as we thought. Yeah, I remember that. Wait, is whatever Parrish is something that bends those rules?"

"More like blends and blurs them so much that I'm not even sure what the rules are anymore," Stiles described. Sure, he was being a bit hyperbolic, but it didn't matter. Scott understood precisely what he meant. "I don't know in the grand scheme of things if that's a good thing or not, but in his case, it is a good thing…a _very_ good thing. If you only knew what he was capable of…let's just say we're extremely lucky that he's a police officer in Beacon Hills."

"Well don't keep me in suspense! What is he?"

Stiles sighed. He didn't want to keep this from his best friend, but he knew that to convince Parrish, he had to gain his trust, and to gain his trust, he had to maintain secrecy. "I need to talk to him first before I can confirm anything. I _was_ going to find him this morning before school, but…" he trailed off in thought, recalling the events of the morning. He had the perfect plan. He spent a large chunk of the previous night in his room Googling all sorts of info on the creature that Parrish potentially was, and much to his excitement each search became another piece of helpful evidence. After printing off who knows how many packets of webpages and PDFs, he decided to get to the station early the next morning before school started so he could talk to the deputy, persuade him to accept his awesomeness, then head to school victorious. But his stupid alarm clock just had to refuse to wake him up, and he ended up being barely on time to his first class of the day. Which brought him back to the present moment, restless and jittery not to do more research, but to find Parrish at the police office after school. The bell couldn't ring any sooner. "…obviously I failed that AND was almost late to class. So now I'm stuck here, waiting, till I can talk to him after school."

Scott nodded, "I understand." He paused before asking his question, "How do you think Parrish is going to react to all of this?"

Stiles froze. He didn't think about that. He knew at some point Parrish would accept who and what he is, but he didn't consider how long it would take to get there, or what his initial reaction would be. "I'm…not sure," he admitted sheepishly.

Scott just smiled and patted his shoulder in reassurance, "Don't worry, you're gonna get through to him; I believe in you."

Stiles smiled back at his best friend; what was up with all these people believing in him? He turned back around and finally attempted to pay attention to the lesson, though still slightly failing.

He really hoped he would get through to him. Not just for Parrish's sake, but also for his own.

"""

The police office was still as quiet as it had been all week. With only the easiest cases being sent in, most of the officers actually got to leave early. Pretty soon only a few people were left including Deputy Parrish, who was the busiest man in the room with his nose stuck in a file folder. He had gotten strange looks all day from his fellow colleagues; they couldn't comprehend how a normal human being could ever be intrigued by such a trivial case. However, what they didn't know was that Parrish was desperately focusing on these cases because of the fact that he definitely was not a normal human being, and he was in full denial of it. Yet, that wouldn't last much longer.

Stiles burst through the front doors of the police office, startling everyone but the deputy. Upon seeing who it was, the others turned back to their work (some with subtle eye-rolls), and Stiles walked up to Parrish's desk. He immediately slammed the packet he was holding in the center of the desk, right on top of the folder that Parrish was so enveloped in before.

Parrish shook his head in confusion for a second before looking up. "Stiles?"

"Read it."

The young deputy looked down at the packet on his desk, still trying to comprehend the situation. "What?"

"Aloud."

He looked up at Stiles again, then back down at the packet. He noticed a picture of an elegant scarlet bird. It looked large and intimidating, but something about it made it seem quite harmless. There was a powerful kindness about it, and for some strange reason Jordan felt very attached to the image. He took his eyes away from it and began reading: " _The phoenix is a large swan-sized scarlet bird with red and gold plumage, along with a golden beak and talons, black eyes, and a tail as long as a peacock's. Its scarlet feathers glow faintly in darkness, while its golden tail feathers are hot to the touch._ " He paused, still rather lost, "What the heck is this about?"

"Just keep reading," Stiles replied, and after a sigh the deputy continued, noticing that there were some parts of the text that the teen highlighted in rather fiery colors, " _The most startling of the phoenix's abilities is its ability to regenerate itself. It periodically bursts into flames when its body becomes old, and rises from the ashes as a newborn chick…they are extremely loyal creatures, and are capable of arriving to the aid of beings who share a similar devotion…Their tears are also able to bring a person back even from the brink of death, while the phoenix song will increase the courage of the good and strike fear into the hearts of the evil…_ " Parrish stopped here, there was something uncomfortably familiar about this, and not because he's heard of phoenixes before; but _why_? "Stiles," he started, not quite sure if this question was sane enough to ask, "are you saying you think there's…a _phoenix_ …in Beacon Hills?"

Stiles's mouth curled into a smirk; he had him right where he needed him. "Yes. In fact, I _know_ there's a phoenix in Beacon Hills."

Deputy Parrish looked at him like he perhaps needed another trip to Eichen House. "Ok, I think you've spent way too much free time in the library. I know we've faced a lot of crazy creatures in the past, but I assure you, a phoenix can't be the next one on the list."

Stiles only leaned forward until he was face to face with the deputy. "You know, your eyes look pretty decent, but I think a color like… _orange_ would suit you much better."

Parrish was dumbfounded. What was this boy getting at? He tried to laugh it off, "Orange? What kind of eye color is that? Besides, I've never been a fan of colored contacts."

Stiles ignored the joke. "Of course, yellow would be a good color too. Or red; red seems to be a popular color among some people, people who are rather… _unique_ , that is."

Jordan froze in his seat. He had an uneasy feeling of where this was going, but then realized what the young teen was suggesting. He looked back at the packet and quickly ruffled through its many pages, seeing descriptions of phoenixes and fire and healing tears and rebirths. He had spent the past few days trying to avoid anything that wasn't normal, but here he was, throwing himself again into a world that he didn't really understand that well to begin with, and completely did not understand now. It couldn't be; it couldn't be possible. So much of his childhood was spent gawking at creatures like these in books and movies; they were works of fiction. Then again, werewolves were thought to be works of fiction, and obviously that was not the case. But still, a _phoenix_ ; it was something beyond the boundaries of the supernatural. It can't actually exist. _He_ can't actually be…

"No, it can't be…"

"I know."

"How could this…? How could _I_ …?"

"I know."

"Stiles, this is _magic_ …"

" _I know_ ," said Stiles, "I was skeptical at first myself. But I'm starting to realize now that our world isn't quite as formulaic as we make it out to be." He thought for a second, "And sometimes, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

Jordan raised his eyebrows despite himself. "Are you seriously quoting Sherlock Holmes right now?"

Stiles shrugged, "Hey, it fits."

Parrish shook his head in amusement and looked back at the packet. He couldn't believe this was happening right now, that he was actually getting an answer right now. He was so terrified before, but the second Stiles showed him the information he couldn't help but feel that old flame of excitement that he had when he began his search, pun intended. "Its tears have healing powers; it can heal any wound."

"Physical, yes. Though I'm sure if someone was emotionally hurt it could be there to at least share the pain if not take it away."

"It's extremely loyal. It can form strong bonds with others."

"Very true."

"It's very rare to domesticate it. That must mean it's pretty wild."

"It means that it is domesticated by choice, and only by those it trusts," Stiles assured, "And I'm pretty sure it has a rather moral taste in trustworthy characters. Which is great, because that means no bad guy ever has a chance of controlling it." He flashed a comforting wink at the deputy, who was trying really hard not to faint from this overwhelming information.

"Are you sure? That I'm…" he finally managed to squeak out. To have the knowledge that all of his worry was for nothing seemed too good to be true. He was still doubtful; this creature was quite impressive; did little old Jordan really have the strength to take on a role like this? Maybe this was a mix-up; maybe he was just some random creature similar to this. But yet, there was something about this that felt right. It almost seemed…that learning this made him feel, for the first time in his life…at _home_.

Stiles already knew the deputy had answered his own question. "I know you're afraid; you're afraid of becoming something you're not. But this-" he held up a bright picture of the flaming bird, "-this is part of you, part of who you are. It doesn't change you; it enhances the things that make you awesome; and trust me, you're insanely awesome." He thought for a second, carefully wording his example, "I used to think that being scatterbrained was a bad thing; I mean, there's a disorder for it; I have to take medicine for it. But only enough to steer me on track when I need to be. Because through the years I realized that my brain being different isn't a liability, it's an _ability_. And honestly, I wouldn't have been able to do half the stuff I've done in the past two years if I just had a "normal" mind. I know it seems like a different case, but if you really think about it, it's pretty much the same thing. You have a gift, Deputy, a _fantastic_ gift, and with some training, you can use your gift to help protect the people of this town."

Jordan took a deep breath as he processed this information. Thinking back on it, the phoenix _was_ his favorite mythical creature, and now it was clear why. It was still a huge responsibility to take on though, and he still wasn't completely convinced he was up for it.

Stiles decided to ask the question that tackled the root of it all, "Deputy Parrish, why did you come to Beacon Hills?"

Parrish was thrown off. He almost forgot about his arrival to the town; so much had happened lately that it felt like he was there his entire life. "Umm, there were openings here, and I guess I wanted a break from handling explosives and what not."

"There were openings in other places too though. Why specifically Beacon Hills?"

Parrish didn't know what to say except, "Well, I think part of me felt, I guess-"

"-drawn here." Stiles finished. Jordan looked up, realization slowly dawning on him, "It wasn't just me, was it?"

The teen looked seriously at him. "When we performed a sacrifice to the Nemeton, it basically became a beacon for a lot of supernatural things, and apparently not so supernatural things," he nodded at Parrish, "You're choices of career and life are entirely your own, but there's a reason you're in Beacon Hills. You're a guardian, and we need a strong one. We need you."

Parrish sat there for a moment, finally understanding the truth. He looked down at the packet of papers again and gently traced the picture with his fingertips. "I'm…a _phoenix_." he at long last admitted, and suddenly he felt more secure in his skin than he had ever felt before in his life.

Stiles smiled softly. "That you are," he responded as a large weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was so relieved that he managed to get through to the deputy. "So, you think you'll be ok with this?"

A small smile formed on Parrish's face as he tried to prevent tears that were suddenly forming to spill. "I always did have a soft spot for birds," he whispered.

Stiles internally giggled, deciding it was time to lighten up the conversation a bit, "That's good, because if you didn't you'd basically be hating yourself." The two shared a chuckle at that. Stiles started to head for the door before he turned back. "Oh! By the way, meet me at my place tomorrow after work. If Dad questions, just tell him I wanted to ask you about your job or something."

"Tomorrow? Wait, what're we meeting for?"

"Training camp!" Stiles declared, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He then walked out the door and was gone.

Parrish shook his head in disbelief; he was starting to worry about what exactly this "training camp" would entail. But that could wait until tomorrow, he decided with a smile; he had an answer, an _amazing_ answer, and in that moment that was all that mattered. And this would probably be Jordan's favorite moment of his life.

The sheriff had just noticed his son finish his conversation with Parrish and leave when he finished his work for the day. Wondering what in the world his boy could ever want with the young deputy tonight, he walked out of his office with his things and stopped by Parrish's desk. "Jordan, what was my son rambling to you about?"

Jordan's face broke into the brightest grin possible; much as he tried, he couldn't hide it at all, not even from the sheriff. But what he could hide was the truth, "Oh that? Stiles was just asking if we could meet sometime and talk. He's doing something for extra credit I think that apparently has something to do with me."

"Well you seem awfully excited about it."

Parrish laughed in spite of himself; he was seriously on cloud nine right now. "It's just that every time that kid is "rambling" about something, it always reminds me just how bright he is. You are very lucky to have him, sir," he looked back at the door that Stiles had walked out of, "Very lucky."

Stilinski looked at him in surprise, touched by the sudden compliment. He smiled, "Yes, I am; but I've known that since the day he was born."

Jordan turned back to the sheriff and smiled in response. "You know, it is getting pretty late, and this case has pretty much been done since it was started; there's no point in reviewing it anymore," he chuckled at his poor attempt at normalcy, "I think it's high time I went to bed. Good night, Sheriff."

"Good night, Jordan." Stilinski replied as Jordan gathered his things and left the office. He had no idea what his son did, but whatever he did made the deputy happier than he had ever seen him in a long while. He made a mental note to thank him later before leaving the station himself, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him before finally heading home.


	6. I'll Make a Phoenix Out of You

_**Hi again :)! Thank you sooo much for the reviews and support! I'm seriously glad you guys like this story so much! Yes, this chapter title is inspired by Mulan. I absolutely loved when Stiles took it upon himself to train Scott. Yeah, Derek is an experienced werewolf, but Stiles knew his best friend better. And with Stiles being so gifted at "knowing", it seemed perfect that he'd be the one to train Deputy Parrish as well :).**_

 _ **I was so enveloped in Stiles's development that I almost forgot that Lydia was just as passionate about this search as he was and would probably be doing some research too. Glad I realized that in time, cause, you know, otherwise I'd just end up finishing the story and she'd still be researching and worrying and would end up being mad at Stiles for not telling her anything...and basically I didn't want that :P. Also, Parrish's aversion to hot showers is based on my own detest of showers. I don't like when a hot shower makes me feel so sweaty afterwards that the shower almost seems like a waste in the first place. That's just me though; I'm weird like that :P. Hope you enjoy this chapter! I feel like this was my most comedic one, what with the shower banter and the humorous interrogation by Sheriff Stilinski XD.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. Or Mulan. Or Disney. Yes, I know that was just a title reference. Whatever.**_

 **Chapter 6: I'll Make a Phoenix Out of You**

Stiles could hardly focus again in class the next day. But thankfully, this time it wasn't because he was nervous but because he was purely EXCITED. It didn't really hit him until he got home the previous night, but he realized then that he was about to train Deputy Parrish to become an actual phoenix! Like, who gets to do something as awesome as that? The thought alone kept the boy up nearly the whole night, but he didn't care one bit; it gave him enough adrenaline to function for the rest of the day, sort of. He was awake, yes, but mentally he was more hyper than ever.

He glanced towards Lydia and was shocked by her appearance. She looked like she got just as much sleep as he did, without the adrenaline. He guessed with a pang of guilt that she must have spent most of the night trying to find more info about Parrish's identity. He didn't want to reveal everything just yet, but he still needed to put the girl at ease. "Hey, you doing all right?"

Lydia took a second to acknowledge that Stiles was talking to her. "What? Oh, yeah! Sorry, I'm just a little tired. I've been trying to research and keep hitting way too many dead ends. I can see why it's frustrated you. I can see why it frustrated him…" she admitted wistfully.

Stiles was quick to reassure her. "Don't worry. Actually…I think I might possibly have somewhat of a lead," he stated cryptically.

Lydia's face gained a little more life from that. "Really? What is it?"

"I can't really say right now; it's more of a path of research rather than tangible information. But you don't have to stress yourself over it; I'm pretty sure I can take it from here."

"You can?" Lydia asked, surprised at the leap in confidence but impressed all the same. "Are you sure it won't be too much?"

"Absolutely not," he replied with an unavoidable grin. He then quickly turned away so she couldn't see his excitement, though at this point it was practically radiating from him. He gave up finally on listening to the lecture and instead occupied himself with staring at the clock. It was the last class of the day, and he only had a few more seconds left until-

RIIIING! The second he heard the bell, Stiles practically leaped out of his seat, scooped his stuff up, and dashed out the door before anyone could even open their mouths. He didn't care though; there was only one thought racing through his mind; tonight was going to be a real adventure.

"""

A few hours later, the doorbell rang at the Stilinski house. Stiles was very glad that his dad hadn't come home yet; he had a feeling he'd get himself into an intense interrogation if the sheriff got wind of what he was about to do. After sliding down the stair rail (he couldn't resist), he bounded for the door and opened it, revealing a slightly nervous but nevertheless enthusiastic Parrish.

"Hey, Deputy Parrish!" Stiles greeted giddily, "Ready to start training?" He didn't even wait for a response before saying, "Great! Let's head up to my room," and bouncing up the staircase. Jordan spent a moment where he was, not quite sure what to do, then decided that as he was already here he might as well get on with it, and he followed the teen upstairs to his room.

Parrish had to hold back a laugh as he stepped into Stiles's room. It bizarrely seemed to resemble his own when he was the boy's age. Random posters and books and little trinkets were strewn about the place, and the deputy wondered if all boys' rooms looked like this, or if Stiles was just as much of an eccentric kid as he was. Although the pictures and string plastered on the walls and the random giant glass board in the middle of everything were a bit much; yeah, Jordan definitely didn't have those in his room. Stiles had momentarily left and returned a few seconds later with a large towel that he then tossed to Parrish. He caught it and looked up, confused. "What's this for?"

"Strip down and get in the shower." was the only reply.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're gonna take a shower."

Parrish looked at the boy like he was asking him to get a colonoscopy. "Ok, I think you've really gotten the wrong impression of me," he joked nervously.

"No, no, no!" Stiles exclaimed, slightly appalled at the suggestion, "Trust me, this is going to help you control your powers."

"By standing in a shower?" Parrish asked skeptically.

"Exactly. Look, when Scott and Lydia got bitten, their powers showed up, they just needed to control it. Malia has all the traits of a wild coyote, she just needs to tone it down when necessary. But you're more like Kira; she didn't know that she even had powers in the first place. So when she found out, she had to learn how to procure them at will. This-" he gestured to the towel, "-will help you derive your powers."

Jordan stared at the towel, still uneasy. "I still don't think I quite understand why this is really necessary…"

"Please," Stiles persisted, "My methods are weird, I know, but they worked on Scott, and now they'll work on you. You gotta trust me on this."

The deputy sighed and complied with Stiles's request. "If your father gets home while I'm in here, I swear…" he muttered as he reached the bathroom door.

Stiles sat outside and waited while Parrish undressed and got in the shower. He stood as he heard the rush of water and knocked on the door. "Hey, Deputy! Can you hear me?"

"Yeah!" the deputy yelled back.

"Awesome! How warm is the water?"

"Warm enough."

"Great! Turn it up a little bit."

"What?" he asked incredulously. He hated hot showers; they made him too sweaty afterwards, which made the shower feel like a waste in the first place.

"C'mon! Just a little bit won't hurt you."

Parrish grumbled but agreed to it. He carefully nudged the knob of the tap and was soon surrounded by steam as the temperature rose. He groaned in irritation.

"You doing all right?" the teen yelled.

"I'm going to feel even more disgusting after this, but otherwise yeah."

"Turn it up more then! A LOT more!"

Parrish's eyes grew wide. That would make the water practically scalding. "That sounds a bit dangerous, Stiles…"

"Parrish!" The young deputy jumped at being called only by his surname. "Just man up and do it!" He glared in the direction of the door, wondering why in the world he got himself into this. He turned the knob a bit more, and soon the heat began piercing his skin. He wasn't in too much pain, but it was still pretty hot. "This is bringing back bad memories!" he yelled out in a lame attempt to guilt-trip Stiles.

Stiles, however, did the complete opposite thing. "Good! Now, turn it up all the way!"

"Oh you've GOT to be kidding me! Are you trying to burn me alive?"

"But you're not going to be! Trust me, and more importantly trust yourself! If you can survive a FLAMING CAR, you can handle a little scalding shower. Quick, you've got to do it now before the water cools down on its own!"

Parrish stared at the tap, wondering if the boy had a point. He closed his eyes for a moment and mentally prepared himself. "Well, here goes nothing," he said to himself, and he slammed the knob all the way to the highest temperature setting. At the first contact with the scorching water he yelped and backed into the furthest wall in the shower. Geez that was hot! He stood paralyzed, terrified to move, before he mentally slapped himself for it. How the heck was he going to be a freaking PHOENIX if he was afraid of just a bit of hot water? Suddenly he was filled with rage, anger at himself and irritation at Stiles. Screwing everything, he plunged back into the shower.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed, suddenly overcome with torture.

Stiles's eyes closed in discomfort; this reminded him all too much of when he had to chain up Scott once and how much that upset him. But he knew it was necessary. "Deputy Parrish? Are you ok in there? …Deputy?"

But Parrish was far from listening. Flashes of that night in the burning car coursed through his mind, and his rage grew degree by degree. It was purely awful; his skin feeling like it was melting off his body, his head feeling like it would explode every second, his pulse beating faster than a rocket ship-

And it stopped. Just as quickly as it hit him, the pain disappeared, as though it was never there in the first place. Jordan slowly rotated in his spot, analyzing the situation. His first thought was the water had already started cooling down, but something was telling him that wasn't the case. The water was still scorching hot, but somehow he miraculously couldn't feel it. He looked around; his vision hadn't really changed, but still something about his eyes felt different. He gazed down at his hands; they were almost scarlet with the amount of blood flow they had. But they were still whole and undamaged. He rotated again, remembering what happened after getting out of the fire, and he soon realized what was happening. Slowly a smile started to form on his face, and he threw his head back in a laugh. Now he enveloped himself in the water, enjoying every drop of it, letting it refresh every inch of his body. After a moment or so, he turned the knob to the off position and got out of the shower after it stopped. He dried himself with the towel Stiles had lent him and put his clothes back on. He stopped in front of the mirror to get a good look at his eyes, but they were their normal color, for now. He thought back to Stiles's "fiery" choices of color for him and wondered if his eyes did in fact change in the shower. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind for another day, he opened the bathroom door, and Stiles, whose ear was pressed against it, was sent toppling down the hall.

"Oof, sorry," Parrish apologized.

Stiles just waved it off. "What happened? You didn't actually get burnt, did you? Man, I'm really sorry; I just wanted you to be able to tolerate heat, and I wasn't really sure how to go about doing that without just shoving you blindly into fire. Oh my God, please don't sue us! We can't afford to be sued-"

"Woah woah woah, easy there! No way am I suing you! Besides, I don't think "my boss's son burned me so that I could become a phoenix" is a very valid statement in court. And anyway, there's no need," he rolled up his sleeves and held his arms up, "See? Not even a scratch."

Stiles gazed in awe. "You could tolerate it?"

Jordan nodded, hardly believing it himself, "Yeah, I guess so. It was actually kind of cool!" He thought back to the experience. "Man, I felt so strong in there! And powerful; like I could knock out an entire army if I wanted to! Though that might have been the sudden heat-induced anger talking." He chuckled.

Stiles grinned, "See? I told you; my weird methods work!"

Jordan grinned back, "Well whaddya know; I guess they do."

They were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the staircase. Seconds later, Sheriff Stilinski appeared in the hallway, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Stiles, son, what's Deputy Parrish doing here?"

Stiles scrambled for an explanation. "Uhh, uhh, uhh…" was all he could manage.

"He invited me over. He said he wanted to ask me about my job, what it's like being a deputy." Parrish answered calmly.

The sheriff looked at his son. "Well if you're interested in law enforcement, why haven't you talked to me? Your father?"

"Uhh…" was still the reply.

"Well, he's been around you enough to understand what you do. I'm guessing he just wants to explore different offices of the police force, see how all the different positions function together," the deputy said with a shrug. The sheriff, still a little lost, turned to Stiles, who was nodding his head vigorously in agreement. The sheriff soon decided to play along for the moment, "Well I'm glad you've taken an interest in the field. While you're here, Jordan, would you like to join us for dinner?"

He smiled at the invitation, "Thanks for the offer, but I should probably get going. I've got some late night errands I need to take care of." He started walking to the stairs. "Good night, and thanks, Stiles!"

"You're welcome!" Stiles replied. The sheriff gave the deputy a curious look before stopping him. "Hang on; did you just take a _shower_?"

Stiles and Parrish both froze. "Uhh, yeah, I took one before I got here," Parrish stated, hoping against hope he'd get away with it. Unfortunately Stilinski's eyes only began to narrow. "Then why are you still wearing your uniform?"

Parrish mentally panicked and tried to think of a logical answer to that. "Well…Stiles wanted to know about law enforcement; I feel more like a law enforcer in uniform," he said lamely. Much to his surprise though, the sheriff seemed to acknowledge it, too tired to question the two of them further. "All right; but Stiles, _please_ let me know next time when someone's visiting."

"You got it sir," Stiles said, playfully saluting to his dad and disappearing into his room. Parrish chuckled and headed down the stairs, soon followed by the sheriff who was muttering something about Stiles getting the whole town in trouble one day.

Stiles sighed in happiness as he fell back into his bed. Today went exactly according to plan, and he was very much looking forward to seeing what other great powers Deputy Parrish could unlock within himself.


	7. I See Fire

_**Hi everyone :)! Thanks for your support! This is probably one of the shortest chapters of the story. The next one is uber long though, so fair warning :P. The title is based off of Ed Sheeran's 'I See Fire' song from the second Hobbit movie. I listed to it before posting this, and it does sort of fit. The intro of the song is a request for protection, which is appropriate considering the phoenix's protective nature :). Such a beautiful song.**_

 _ **I really did enjoy writing this scene; it was so amazing actually picturing a visual representation of the descriptions in my head. I hope you find the scene as breathtaking as I did :).**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. Also I do not own Ed Sheeran or his music.**_

 **Chapter 7: I See Fire**

The rest of the week was pretty straightforward. Stiles would go to school, Jordan would go to work, and at some point they would meet and work on using the deputy's powers more. Jordan had insisted though that Stiles come to his place instead, so as not to raise any more questions from the sheriff. Occasionally Stiles would stay for dinner, giving Parrish a chance to cook and handle hot vessels and other utensils. There were times though when he would consent to going back to Stiles's place, this time accepting the sheriff's offers to join them for dinner. It was nice, having Stiles help him find his powers as well as getting to know and spend time with his friend and colleague outside of work.

He was taking hot showers every day now and marveled how now he didn't even break a sweat. Mostly the training so far was just practice in tolerating heat, developing a sort of relationship with it, and Parrish was getting better and better at it. It wasn't all successful though; the two young men once had an unfortunate mishap with a clothes iron that actually did manage to singe the deputy's arm, which resulted in him refusing to talk to Stiles for three days. He eventually got over it though and continued training at Stiles's encouragement.

The next weekend though, Stiles thought it was time to conduct phase two of his plan. He asked Parrish to meet him this time on the cliff at the Beacon Hills Preserve that overlooks the city, and when the deputy got there, the first thing he noticed was a large fire crackling in the center of the cliff area.

He immediately got nervous. "Uhh, what's this?"

Stiles chortled, "Dude, it's a fire. You know, that amalgamation of different gases that can burn everyone except you-"

"I know it's a dang fire! What is it doing here? _How_ is it here? That's pretty impressive of you to build this whole thing…"

"Why thank you!" Stiles grinned with oblivious pride, "Anyway, now that you've found out that you can expose yourself to heat, let's work on actually _controlling_ the heat itself." He nodded to the fire, and Parrish suddenly became very uncomfortable. "Ohhh, no. No way. Just because I'm a supernatural creature doesn't mean I'm some sorcerer who can magically manipulate fire-"

"Don't worry! You can totally do it! Hey, if Kira can control electricity, then you can control fire. Just, use your hands somehow and…move it."

Parrish raised an eyebrow in utmost skepticality. "Move it. As in move the fire? Yeah, sure, I can totally make this entire bonfire, wood and all, levitate and relocate itself somewhere else."

Stiles narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "You know what I mean. Come on, don't be such a butt about it!" Parrish was startled by the accusation, then grumbled. "Fine, I'll at least try."

"That's all I'm asking," Stiles said in slight exasperation; this guy really was a tough nut to crack.

Jordan stepped closer to the fire and was encouraged by the fact that he hardly even felt the heat from it; the flames almost felt like a warm blanket hovering in front of him. Warily, he raised his hands and held his palms over the fire. He tried to concentrate, then swept his hands to the right. Nothing happened. He sighed in disappointment.

"It's ok! Just try again," said Stiles optimistically. Parish glanced at him and turned back to the fire. Again he held his hands over it and this time swept them to the left. Still nothing. He held his hands up again but then gave up. "This is ridiculous! I feel _silly_ doing this. Maybe I don't control fire. You know what, let's just try this another time-"

"No! You gotta do this! You need to learn how to get a better grasp on your powers so that when you shift, you can actually use them-"

"Woah woah woah, when I _shift_? You mean actually turn into a _bird_?"

Stiles looked at him like he had lost his brain. "Surely you know that being a phoenix actually means you're going to _be a phoenix_."

"I know that! I just wasn't thinking about it actually happening for a while…" Parrish was starting to freak out now.

Stiles, alarmed, tried to calm the deputy down, "Ok, it's fine. We don't have to worry about that right now. All I want you to do, is focus on the fire. Just focus on it, and try to commit all of your energy to it."

Jordan faced the fire, glaring at it. "I'm trying," he growled.

Stiles suddenly became nervous, "Uhh, are you sure? 'Cause you don't seem very focused right now…"

"Stiles, I'm trying, really!" Parrish exclaimed, staring daggers into the flames.

"Ummm, I'm not really sure if getting angry at it is exactly going to help-"

"GOD DAMMIT STILES I'M TRYING!" he roared at the young boy. And without warning, a flare of flames shot upward from the fire and disappeared into the air. Both men turned to the fire, their gazes fixed on the empty space where the flare had once been.

"Was that…?" the deputy began.

"I think so…" Stiles responded. The two looked at each other for a moment, and then Parrish suddenly moved towards the fire again. He held his hands over it, not forcing anymore, but just focusing calmly. He gazed at the flames softly, and like a curious child, he slowly moved his hand around like a painter's brush.

And the flames moved with it.

He froze in his spot, both overcome with excitement and afraid to move and ruin everything. He glanced at Stiles who was entranced by the whole thing. He turned back and let go of his control. Standing up, he searched for a better angle and stretched his hand out, soon pulling it back like he was grasping something. A collection of flames followed his hand movement and slowly travelled towards him.

Stiles started laughing in a mix of relief and excitement. "Deputy, you're doing it! You're really doing it!" Parrish started smiling, and like an entertained kid in a science museum he started toying with the fire, moving it every which direction. Soon he joined Stiles in laughter as he continued morphing the flames into so many different shapes, at one point even forming a phoenix itself. He then paused for a moment, returning the fire to its normal state. Ignoring Stiles's curious expression, he stepped closer to the fire until he was right upon it. He crouched down so that the flames towered above him.

Stiles grew concerned. "Uhh, Deputy…?"

"Don't worry," he reassured with a smile, not looking at him, "I know what I'm doing."

He took a deep breath and reached into the fire with both of his hands. Realizing with enthusiasm that they didn't burn at all, he took another breath and immediately spread his hands apart. Suddenly the fire split right down the middle, and the flames on either side whooshed apart, curving upward and intertwining again in a brilliant spectacle. Stiles gaped in awe as the flames twirled around each other and formed a figure that much resembled a strand of DNA. Parrish meanwhile merely stepped back with a proud expression on his face, taking every detail of this moment in. Soon the flames floated back down as both halves of the fire reunited as the original bonfire, looming large but looking rather meek now compared to the phenomenal performance that just occurred.

Stiles could hardly speak after that. "That was…" he began lamely.

"Yeah," Jordan breathed. It was the most extraordinary thing he had ever done in his life.

Stiles took a good look at him. He may not have known the young deputy that well when they met, but he got to know him lately through all the demons they had to face together. And seeing him now, Stiles knew that he was looking at a changed man. Parrish had an aura of confidence and serenity about him now, kind of like Scott. And that thought made him smile brighter than the glow of the fire.

"All right, I think it's high time we go home; you definitely deserve a good night's sleep," he smiled at the deputy.

"Sounds like a great idea; you deserve a good night's sleep too," replied Jordan, smiling back knowingly at the young teen. Stiles only slightly blushed. He returned his gaze to the fire. "Uhh, should we do anything about…?" he pointed to the fire.

"Leave it. It'll burn out overnight, and it'll be a mark of what happened," Parrish decided, a grin still glowing on his face. Stiles grinned back, and the two young men walked away from the cliff and returned to their homes in victory.


	8. Up, Up, and Away

_**Hi all :)! OMG I still cannot thank you enough for all your support! This is the long chapter, and fun fact: the biggest scene near the end was the first scene of the story I ever thought of, and it's been floating around in my mind since the story's inception. So, after all this time, I was SO glad when I finally could get around to writing it, so I'm beyond happy to share it with you all :D.**_

 _ **To one of the guests who reviewed, unfortunately there isn't much interaction between Stiles and Malia. There are some mentions of the two in the next chapter, but their relationship isn't the focus. Don't get me wrong, I love their relationship! But this story is more about the growing relationship between Stiles and Jordan and how they learn a lot about themselves through the work they've been doing together. And like I said at the start, I'm all about the friendship in this story :). However, there are sweet platonic Parrish/Lydia scenes in the next chapter; I've always pictured them as a sort of older brother/younger sister pair :). Also, I absolutely LOVE the relationship between the sheriff and the deputy, and I can't wait to see that grow throughout the next season!**_

 _ **So this is my wishful speculation on what role the new villains of Season 5 will play. Lemme know your thoughts on it. I really am curious to see how these "doctors" are going to "change" the rules of the supernatural world. The promos for this season are creepy as heck, btw O_o.**_

 _ **Also, I do love writing multi-person phone calls! Such a beautiful blend of dialogue and information and confusion! Also, feel free to interpret Scott's "We?" statement as you wish; it is quite significant indeed ;). Anyway, hope you enjoy chapter 8! There's one more "official" chapter after this... ;).**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. I also do not own Cirque Du Soleil, or Peter Pan, or 'Walking on Sunshine", or the Chicken Dance :P. But of course Stiles has all these references stored in his brain with all the research he does XD.**_

 **Chapter 8: Up, Up, and Away**

Training was a little lighter after that latest incredible event. Jordan still practiced, handling heat and working with fire every chance he got. But he managed to convince Stiles that he didn't have to spend all of his time on him and that he really should focus on school. Stiles complied, going to school and doing his homework and spending time with his dad and hanging out with his friends. That didn't mean he couldn't be on cloud nine though. He was so ecstatic that they seemed to be ahead of schedule with Parrish already embracing his powers. He pondered that; perhaps now was the time for the final phase of training. The deputy was already so confident; maybe his confidence was enough to ignite the greatest ability of all. During free period he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the deputy.

"Stiles, I'm at work; I shouldn't be taking personal calls right now," a voice sounded on the other line.

"Well, consider this a not-personal call. What do you say to one last training session?"

Parrish paused for a moment before a soft grin curled around his mouth. "I'm in."

"""

Parrish looked down the slope of the hill he was standing on. "Well, this is new."

Stiles had asked him to meet in the middle of the forest, which was a very vague location, but the deputy managed to find him nonetheless. And so here they were, on top of a decently sized slope, and Parrish wondered what in the world could Stiles teach him here. "Stiles, what exactly are we doing here?"

Stiles took a deep breath before speaking; he had to choose his words carefully so as not to scare off the deputy. "You've improved a lot since we started all this."

Parrish grunted, "Gee, thanks," feeling like a child being complimented by his grade school teacher.

"I'm serious!" Stiles insisted, though a small smile teased at his mouth, "It's only been a couple of weeks, and already you can be exposed to heat without a problem, and the things you can do with fire are worthy of Cirque Du Soleil!" Parrish shot him a confused look, which appalled Stiles. "Seriously, you haven't heard of Cirque Du Soleil? Geez, the amount of culture in this town…" the boy grumbled.

"Well maybe there's not enough time for "culture" when there are werewolves running around and banshees predicting death and bizarre demonic creatures attacking us every week. What's your point?"

Stiles shook himself back on track. "My point is that you have a pretty strong grasp now on your powers. So maybe it's time to embrace them completely."

Parrish shot the same confused look. "Embrace my powers…completely?"

"Uhh, yeah. You know, be the phoenix you're meant to be."

Parrish laughed awkwardly, "Ok…what else is left to do?"

Stiles nervously led the deputy to the very edge of the slope. "You're going to jump off this hill," he declared, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Parrish raised his eyebrows so high they blended in with the hair on his head. "You want me, to jump off this hill, and face plant into the ground?"

"But that's just it," Stiles explained, heartbeat slightly rising in his apprehension, "You're not going to face plant. You're going to fly."

Jordan's eyes widened in terror as the realization of this being the moment of transformation hit him. "No no no nononono; I can't fly," he said, whipping around and trying to run back.

"Ohhh, yes you can!" encouraged Stiles, grabbing hold of him, turning him around, and gently pushing him back to the edge. "You got this; it's all emotion."

"Emotion?" Parrish inquired, momentarily forgetting his fear.

"Yeah! The tolerance in the shower, the stuff with the fire; that was all fueled by emotion! Listen, you said you were feeling anger in the shower, right? Like you could take down a whole army if you wanted to?"

"Yeah…"

"See, that anger was what activated your power to tolerate heat! Then there's the fire, how did you move the fire?"

"I don't know; focus? Concentration?"

"Well yeah, that was part of it, but what was the initial catalyst that sent that first flame up?"

Parrish thought back to that night, "I was getting frustrated because nothing was happening, and your persistence didn't really help matters any…"

"Exactly! You were frustrated, and when you yelled, that was the emotional peak that set off everything!"

"Ok, but I wasn't frustrated after that, and I could still move the fire."

"You knew by then that you could do it, that you had it in you to do it; you didn't need a catalyst anymore."

"Sooo, you're saying that I need to get angry in order to fly?"

"No! Deputy, you're missing the whole point! You were so emotional at those times that it was enough to cause a spark. If you just find an emotional ground and hang on to it, I'm sure you can soar above this forest without a problem! God, if I knew this when I was helping Scott, things would've been a heck of a lot easier…"

Parrish was still a bit anxious. "Wait, so what emotional ground do I need exactly?"

Stiles searched his brain for something, anything, that could potentially be useful. Suddenly he got an idea. "Peter Pan!"

"Pardon?"

"Think happy thoughts, right? That's what they said in _Peter Pan_. So, just think of a happy memory, anything that made you feel like you were, uhh, "walking on sunshine"." He lamely chuckled at his pun.

"You're seriously kidding me right now," Parrish responded, shaking his head at the teen's many references. He sucked in a breath of air. "Ok, let's try it," he declared reluctantly. He stepped back a few feet to get a running start. He looked at Stiles for a moment, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up. He looked back at the edge of the slope and gulped. "Well, here goes my life," he muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes and returned to the memory of the night at the bonfire. He thought about the spectacle he formed and how powerful and amazing it made him feel. He couldn't help but smile at that. And so he opened his eyes, confident and ready, and took off for the edge. He ran and ran and ran and finally jumped.

THUMP! And there he was, face down in a pile of dirt and leaves. He groaned as he rolled over on his back, and in his dizziness he could vaguely perceive a Stiles-like figure dash down the hill to where he lay.

"Oh. My. God. Are you ok? Please be ok. Please say something."

"That was stupid."

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, despite the comment that was made. "Ok, good; that's good. It's fine, first time's always tricky; let's just try again." Parrish had half a mind to whack the boy in the face, but grudgingly decided to get up and at least try one more time. He brushed himself off, and the two went back up to the top of the hill. Stiles contemplated a different approach. "Ok, maybe there's some aerodynamics involved. Umm, try flapping your arms a little."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, just like this." He demonstrated by spreading his arms and vigorously moving them up and down at his sides. Parrish gave him a funny look before complying and moving his own arms meekly up and down. Stiles stopped and stared at him judgmentally. "You're about to fly, not do the Chicken Dance!"

Parrish glared at Stiles but didn't argue. "All right, let's just get this over with," he said with determination. He moved back to his starting point and prepared himself. He was about to think of another happy memory but decided against it. Instead, he thought about what he was doing this for. He was a phoenix, a creature that wasn't just supernatural but _magical_. The thought of shifting into a large fiery bird still intimidated him a little, but he knew it was necessary and important. If he could do this, the ways he could help others would be _limitless_. He focused on that thought and starting moving towards the edge, faster and faster, until he broke into a run and, lifting his hands up, jumped again off the edge of the slope.

"Arrgh!" he cried as he once again hit the ground and tumbled a little over the sticks and leaves. Once again, Stiles hurried down to check on him and found him lying on his back, eyes starting to widen as he stared at the sky. "Hey, it's ok. You'll get it the next time- what's wrong?"

A horrible understanding had reached Parrish. "I can't fly," he whispered.

"No no no, you can fly. I-I _know_ you can fly. You just…need more time that's all."

"Don't you see?" Parrish suddenly sat up and stared at Stiles. "I'm not a phoenix; I'm just some random dude with phoenix powers. I can't-" Tears started biting at his eyes; flying and shifting were what he was most nervous about, but the fact that he couldn't do either was the most heartbreaking thing he had faced.

"Hey hey hey, that's not true. We just have to keep trying. I'll help you. Deputy, you _need_ to do this."

Parrish stood up angrily. "Why? Why is this so important? What's it to you? Do you really want me to be a supernatural creature that much? Or do you just not want to disappoint Lydia?" Stiles jumped up and stared at the deputy in shock as he continued, "Yeah, I know she asked you to do this. She had to have asked you; why else would you bother with me in the first place?" He stopped as he realized what he just said. "Stiles, I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that. I know you just want to help; I appreciate that."

But Stiles didn't care. Of course he didn't; he was Stiles, one of the most understanding people Jordan has ever met who knew practically every person in Beacon Hills better than they knew themselves. So he understood, and didn't care that Parrish just made an offensive statement. "Lydia did ask me to help. She told me I should help, because for some reason I was the only person who could get through to you. For some reason, I was the one person who could believe in you enough to help you find out who you are. And…I _do_ believe in you. I believe that you are a phoenix, I believe that you can do this, I believe that you _can_ fly. I-I can't give up on you; I don't _want_ to give up. But if you give up, right now, then you fail. And that means I fail." Stiles's voice cracked, and his eyes pleaded with the deputy to persevere.

Parrish took a long, somber breath and walked over to the young boy. He gently patted him on his shoulder and said, "Failure is good for you sometimes. It's something to learn from. Thank you, for everything; I mean it." He started walking away, and now Stiles had to fight back the tears stinging his own eyes. "Deputy…" he called out, though at this point it was hardly above a whisper.

Suddenly, a dissonant clash of melodies rang through the woods. Both guys realized at the same time that their phones had started ringing. They pulled their phones out of their pockets and glanced at the caller IDs. They looked up at each other.

"It's your dad," said Parrish.

"It's Scott," said Stiles.

Both immediately answered the calls, having a feeling of what they could be about.

"Jordan, you need to come to the hospital right away," the sheriff's voice sounded at the other line.

"Stiles, we're on our way to the hospital; you gotta meet us there," Scott's voice rung out.

"Wait, Sheriff, what's going on?"

"Hold on, what's happening? Is everyone ok? Is Melissa ok?"

"Something really weird and really bad happened here, Jordan, and it might possibly be an internal case."

"Mom's fine. She just called us and said there was an attack at the hospital. And it might have been done by one of the workers there." Stiles's body suddenly became very cold.

"Internal case? You mean one of the _workers_ did it? Never mind, I'll be there right away."

"Ok, Scott; say no more. I'm on my way." Stiles hung up his phone just as Parrish hung up his. They stared at each other, their previous conversation completely pushed aside. "Hospital?" Parrish inquired.

"Hospital." Stiles answered.

"You think it's something supernatural?"

Stiles was about to say yes, but he stopped himself, suddenly remembering Deaton's words from before. An uneasy feeling began to envelop his mind. "I don't know," he admitted shakily.

Parrish suddenly became very alarmed and very authoritative. "We need to go to the hospital, NOW."

"""

A hospital is typically considered a safe place, a place where those in illness or pain can heal. But in the past year or so, the Beacon Hills hospital had become anything but safe, especially that night. That night, several police cars and ambulances surrounded the building. And inside, several officers and doctors and friends were trying to make sense of everything.

"I just don't understand," said Sheriff Stilinski, stepping out of the patient's room, "Are you sure it was someone here?"

"I just left this patient to check on another, and when I came back, he was dead and surrounded by medical equipment that was definitely not there before. They're not typical medical tools either; unless they're being used they're locked up in storage- we've become extra careful about our equipment ever since this place became a stage for attacks," Melissa McCall explained, voice strong but body still slightly trembling by the horror of what happened, "No one outside of the hospital knows the code to unlock them, so I figured it's either one of our guys, which is why I called you," she nodded to the sheriff, "or something not exactly normal in the physical world, which is why I called Scott."

Scott wore a humble expression. "As glad as I am that you call me when something's up, I'm not exactly the one who knows the most about the supernatural world."

His mom reached out and cradled the side of his face in a reassuring hand. " _You're_ the alpha, and you're my son; that is why I call you." They shared a loving look in a brief moment of peace before forcing themselves back to the terrible situation at hand. "Besides, I know that by calling you I can trust you to let the rest of the pack know what's going on." As though her statement was a prediction, Stiles and Parrish took that moment to barrel into the hallway and approach the group. "Ok, we're here; what's happened this time?" Stiles panted. After an unspoken exchange with Scott, Stiles noticed the door to the patient's room and was about to walk in when his dad stopped him. "Stiles…" he started; he couldn't let his son see the horror that was inside.

"Sir," Scott countered, "It's ok; let him see it."

The sheriff put his protectiveness aside and nodded. "Just be careful; this room is evidence now."

Stiles continued inside, and at the sheriff's acknowledgement Parrish joined him. They cautiously stepped inside, barely entering the room so as not to leave too many tracks. The body was gone, obviously moved to the morgue by now. Medical instruments were scattered across tables and across the floor, covered in smears of blood. Disgusted, Stiles's eyes traveled to the far wall, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh my God." he breathed.

"What the hell?" whispered Parrish.

On the wall was a message, smeared in the same blood, reading, "Taste your medicine. Die from your poison."

Stiles started shuddering uncontrollably, and Jordan had to firmly hold his shoulders and steer him out of the room. Once they were back in the hall, Stiles faced the rest of the group. For though the message made no sense to anyone else, Stiles understood the language of puzzles, and he could see right through the riddle. "It's science." he stammered.

"What?" questioned Scott.

"It's not magic; it's science." He turned to Melissa, "You're partly right; I think doctors did do this, but I don't think they're from this hospital."

"Stiles, what are you talking about?" asked his father.

"Dr. Deaton was right; the rules of the supernatural world aren't rigid at all. And now someone's trying to change those rules. He's perverting them to try to convince us that we're freaks…that we're poisoned."

"We?" Scott's voice was barely a whisper as he couldn't help the word escape his lips, a word that contained more meaning than the rest of the room realized. Stiles knew, but ignored his best friend. He turned to face the patient's door, still shaken. "A man of science is giving us a taste of our own medicine."

Jordan felt paralyzed in terror. This wasn't just any attack; it wasn't even a typical supernatural attack. This was something no one knew anything about and no one knew how to stop. Without his conscious really working, he started moving down the hall.

"Deputy, where are you going?" Stiles called out. Getting no response, he took it upon himself to follow the man down the hall, with his dad right on his heels.

Down the stairs they went, right down to the bottom floor, and Stiles knew where they were headed.

"Deputy, don't. It'll only make it worse," he pleaded, but he knew it was in vain. Parrish continued to the doorway. He had to see, he had to see what these wicked villains had done. He opened the door and entered the morgue.

Eerie silence greeted him. He slowly walked over to the table where he knew the body lay. How he knew, he didn't understand; but he just knew. Just before he reached for the sheet covering the body, he sensed Stiles approaching behind him, who had somehow managed to convince his father to wait outside. The two looked at each other and reached an understanding. Jordan trembled as he again reached for the sheet, so Stiles grabbed another end, and they both lifted it up, revealing the corpse underneath.

All Stiles could let out was a simple noise. The body was mutilated beyond comprehension, and gash marks swirled geometrically. He was about to faint when he saw the face. "I know him," he whispered, "Henry Miller; he-he owned that little book shop downtown. We weren't close, but every time I went there and read or got books, he'd always tell me to never stop believing in them."

"He was the grown-up that believed in magic," Parrish realized.

Stiles nodded. "That's why he was attacked," he stated simply.

Parrish all of a sudden felt very sick. Someone was here, committing a disgusting act of evil, hurting lives, _innocent_ lives. He spent so much trying to protect this town, and right now it seemed to catch fire right under his nose. Fire. Fire… But he could handle fire.

Jordan whipped the sheet back over the body and gripped the edge of the table, determination engulfing his self. "Deputy, are you ok?" Stiles asked. Parrish raised his head to look at him, and the young teen gasped.

For his eyes had met eyes of a bright, fiery orange.

"Deputy…" he whispered.

Parrish then noticed his reflection on a shiny surface and noticed the new hue of his eyes, which now narrowed powerfully. Without warning, he rushed out of the morgue.

"Jordan!" the sheriff called out when he passed the doorway. He kept going, to the end of the hallway and up the stairwell. Stiles rushed to his dad's side. "Stiles, where's he going? What happened? What's wrong?"

Stiles's mind was reeling; he was confounded as to what just happened and what the change of eye color meant for the deputy. After a few seconds, a sudden realization hit him, and his mind rocketed in panic.

"Dad, he's heading to the roof."

Parrish emerged onto the roof of the Beacon Hills hospital. He knew that what he was about to do was probably the stupidest thing ever, but he didn't care. Someone just _died_ , and one of his friends could be next. God, _Sheriff Stilinski_ could be next…

No. That would not happen; Jordan would not let that happen. He came here with the instinct to protect this town, to protect his friends…to protect his _best_ friend. He didn't know who these creepy weirdo scientists were, what they had planned, or what they were capable of. But he did know that he would do anything, _everything_ in his power to fight them and prevent them from killing the spirit of Beacon Hills with _their_ poison. His determination and passion fueled him, and he ran across the roof, all fear absent from his body. He spread his hands out, ready to lift his arms at just the right moment.

Stiles had finally burst out the door to the roof just as Parrish reached the edge. "DEPUTY!" he yelled, but he was too late. Jordan had taken a leap of faith.

Moments later Sheriff Stilinski caught up with his son, and he followed the gaze to the edge of the roof. "Please tell me it didn't happen," he stammered.

Stiles didn't move. "He jumped off," he declared, eyes wide in horror and sadness.

The sheriff nearly toppled over, and he leaned onto the nearest pole for support. "I can't believe he…He was always so…I _swore_ he would never betray me." Tears started clouding his eyes, and Stiles couldn't look at him and see how distraught he was. "Stiles, what's been going on? You've been the one around him lately. What have you noticed? Why, _why_ would he do something like this?"

Stiles knew, but didn't say. How could he explain something like this? How could he tell his father that his brave, loyal, hardworking deputy risked death just to shift into a magical creature? He hated the nagging voice of optimism scratching at his brain, trying to convince him that somehow Parrish survived and more. He hated it, because he knew it was a lie. And then he looked at his dad, who had endured so much in his life, and realized he couldn't lie to him.

"Dad, Deputy Parrish…" he tried to start, swallowing tears, "He-he was trying to- he wanted to-"

" _Stiles_."

The boy took a deep breath, "Dad, Deputy Parrish is…was…a ph-"

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Both Stiles and the sheriff whipped around just in time to see a bright spark seem to shoot across the night sky.

"No way…" breathed Stiles.

A magnificent, brilliant bird soared across the deep blue canvas, floating above the forests and gliding over the small neighborhoods and tiny businesses. It seemed to head straight for the two Stilinskis, and as it neared the hospital roof, it twirled around itself like a torpedo and burst into flames. The blazing bird soon spread its immense wings and zoomed over the roof merely feet above the heads of Stiles and the sheriff, who ducked to avoid the powerful heat radiating from the creature. The phoenix took off again into the night, and after just a moment a joyful laugh erupted from Stiles.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he cheered, elation taking over his entire body.

The sheriff slowly rose, mind still numb and body still in shock from the event that just occurred. After circling around some buildings a couple of times more, the magical creature returned to the hospital roof and slowly floated down, morphing back into Jordan Parrish as he alighted on the roof. He looked up and smiled proudly at the sheriff and his son. The former stumbled forward, never taking his eyes off the deputy.

"… _Jordan_?" Stilinski inquired, though he knew inside that it was surely him.

"Hello," he replied lamely, waving awkwardly.

The sheriff continued to stare. "You're…" he breathed.

"Yeah."

"You can…"

"I can."

The man was perplexed. "How? Why? Where? Who…?" Jordan opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the sheriff turned to Stiles and gazed at his son with a look of amazement. "You."

Stiles was astonished that his dad managed to put the pieces together so quickly, especially about something like this. He didn't know what to say, but his dad kept going, "You knew, didn't you? You knew, and you helped Parrish to know it too." He turned back to the deputy, leaving his son speechless.

Parrish stepped forward. "Sheriff, I know I should have told you before, but I was afraid. I didn't know who I was- what I was -and I didn't want to become some sort of monster, especially in front of you. Sir, I'm really sorry; I-"

He was cut short when the sheriff walked towards him and enveloped him in a strong hug. "I told you, you're one of the best guys I've ever worked with, and _nothing_ can ever mess with that. You're not a monster, Jordan, and you'll never be one, not to me."

Tears filled his eyes as Jordan held on to the man who had become a sort of father and a definite best friend. Once they separated, Parrish turned to face Stiles, who grinned brightly.

"See, Deputy? I told you; I knew you could do it. Kinda sucks that it took a tragic accident for it to happen, but it did provide an emotional ground, didn't it? You did well, sir," Stiles finished, realizing he would start rambling if he didn't stop. He held out his hand for the deputy to shake, but instead Parrish shook his head, and before Stiles knew it Jordan pulled the young teen into a tight embrace.

"Thank you, for believing in me, Stiles," he whispered.

Stiles was stunned for a moment before returning the embrace. As he processed Parrish's words, he started to softly laugh into the deputy's shoulder, finally shedding tears he didn't realize he was holding in. "Absolutely," he hiccupped.

Once they broke apart, the sheriff decided to break the silence. "We should probably head back to the others. We-" he motioned to all three of them, much to Stiles's happy surprise, "-have a case to solve."

"You got it sir," Jordan responded, heading for the doorway with newfound confidence and determination. The sheriff approached his son and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm very proud of you, son," he declared.

"For believing in Deputy Parrish?"

"No, for believing in yourself."

Stiles paused in surprise as his father gave him a knowing smile. He took a moment to compose himself, still blown away by everything that happened. "Dad, since it is Senior Year and all, maybe we can talk about your job sometime; like, have an actual serious talk about it."

The sheriff ruffled his son's hair. "I would absolutely love that. Actually, once Scott's dad gets back in town, maybe you could talk to him too." They shared a smile as they walked together towards the door, both equally prepared now to fight the battle ahead.


	9. Rise Above the Ashes

_**Hi :)! Seriously you guys are AMAZING for supporting this story :)! Thank you so much! This is the last "official" chapter of this story (there's a reason that's in quotations ;) ), and I'm so glad to finally share it with you! Btw, the scene where Jordan performs a certain gun trick was another scene that floated around my head for a good while. It just seemed so epic to me, and I loved finally writing it in. Also, writing Peter was kind of difficult; he's been so morally flip-flopping throughout the series that I don't really know what to think of him anymore. But based on all the stuff he's done, I'm assuming he's still a nut job :P.**_

 ** _By the way, the book shop owner who was killed in the last chapter was named Henry Miller for a reason; I am a big fan of Once Upon a Time, and when I wanted the victim to be someone who believed wholeheartedly in magic, the character of Henry Mills was the first thought that popped in my head. So the name is not entirely original, but the character in my story is. Or was, cause now he's dead :P. Oh well, at least Henry Mills is still alive and better than ever in OUAT :D!_**

 ** _So now we finally get to the bottom of Scott's whole "we" business from the last chapter; yay adorable brotherhood! This story has been telling Stiles's journey as he slowly discovers and accepts himself as an official part of the pack (and as a member of supernatural society :) ). Honestly, I kinda hope that's where his character will go in the actual Season 5... Also, you gotta love that baseball bat XD. Anyway, enjoy the final chapter of this story (or is it? Dun dun DUNNN). Gosh, I can be SUCH a tease when I want to be X-)._**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. I also do not own Glee or Darren Criss...you'll see why; this particular song quoted is one of my favorite songs of all time, and as you can tell by the title of this chapter and the entire work, it's a true inspiration for this story :).**_

 **Chapter 9: Rise Above the Ashes**

Stiles pulled into the parking lot at school, and a second later Scott pulled into a spot on his motorbike. Stiles grinned as he got out of his jeep and jogged to meet up with his best friend.

"Hey Scott!"

"Hey Stiles!" The two started heading for the school entrance.

"Well, there goes our "normal" Senior Year," Stiles laughed.

"Yeah, well I kinda figured we wouldn't have one anyway. I mean, the scale had to tip the other way at some point to keep the balance. But you definitely don't seem too upset by it."

Stiles's head snapped up. "Of course I am! Mr. Miller was murdered by a psycho doctor who probably has a whole team of wackos coming after us, and if doctors are becoming evil then who knows what insanity could be unleashed from Eichen House. I mean, last night was awful! All the police cars there, and-"

"Deputy Parrish?"

"Parrish? What about him? I bet he and Dad are having a field day with this. They haven't had a case this crazy in a long time…" Stiles rambled on, trying to keep a somber face, but little hints of a smile would twitch on his face, and he couldn't hide it much longer.

Scott however didn't bother hiding a bright smile. "Parrish is in control now, isn't he? Of all of his powers?" Stiles stared in surprise, but nodded. "That's awesome! No wonder you're all giddy! Having another strong ally will definitely help with all this mess. Have you told Lydia yet?"

Stiles stopped in his tracks and looked at Scott incredulously. "Lydia? What does Lydia have to do with any of this?"

"Well, she _was_ the one who asked you to help him in the first place."

Stiles was caught totally off guard. "Hang on, how did you know that? Did she tell you?"

"No, she told you. _I_ was just listening." He winked, and Stiles connected the dots.

"You wolf-heard us talking outside the cafeteria that one day, didn't you?"

"Every word," he smiled.

"Well then why didn't you say anything? You didn't try to persuade me to help, or not help. Heck, you didn't even try to help me!"

"It wasn't my place to. I knew this was something you had to do on your own, something you _could_ do on your own, because _you_ had the power to."

Stiles started walking again, attempting to avoid the conversation about to happen. "Scott-"

"I meant what I said the first day of school. You've done so many amazing things, and you're one of the most brilliant people I know. And if what I heard you say at the hospital is any indication, I know that now you know it too."

"Scott, that was a general statement! If I'm talking about evil scientists attacking, of course I'll include myself with the good guys!"

"Face it, you may be human, but you're just as much a part of this world as the rest of us. Stiles-" Scott grew serious now, holding his best friend by the shoulders and turning him to face him just before they reached the door. "You do realize that Deputy Parrish would have never gotten to this point without you. Lydia and Malia wouldn't have gotten where they are without you. And I, I would not be the man I am, the True Alpha I am, without you by my side." Stiles tensed under his hold, trying to keep from getting all mushy and emotional from this. "You're a very, VERY important part of this pack, Stiles, more important than you realize. Don't you ever forget that."

All these words were too sentimental and profound for Stiles to handle right now. But they were kind, and they were Scott's. So he gave in to the touching words and hugged his best friend. "Thanks, man," he said.

"Your welcome, buddy," Scott said, patting his back before they broke apart. "Now let's go. Unfortunately being under attack by demonic doctors won't get us out of Physics. They walked through the doors and into the hallway just as Stiles's phone started beeping. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the text that just arrived. He smacked his palm against his head. "Good grief this can NOT be happening right now."

"What's up?"

"Dad just texted me about a break out."

"A break out? Where? That's cool that he's letting you know though, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but it was a break out at Eichen House. And guess which maniac is now freely roaming the streets of Beacon Hills."

Scott froze and his eyes grew to the size of tennis balls. "You're kidding me! How's that even possible? He was locked up in a special ward with some creepy third-eye-psychic dude from what I heard." Stiles gave a look that said _I told you so_ , and Scott understood exactly what was happening. "Oh no," he groaned, "If those psychos have control over him-"

"Let's just hope they don't use him against his own daughter," Stiles murmured darkly, shuddering at the thought.

"Let's hope we find Peter before they can."

"""

"Well, looks like you found me," Peter Hale stated calmly.

Shockingly, it didn't take that long to locate where the werewolf was hiding. The pack ended up breaking into an old abandoned house and coming face to face with the creature. Stiles knew this wasn't coincidence or pure luck; _they_ made it easy, easy for the pack to find him, easy for Peter to kill them if he wanted to. Stiles had texted his dad about what was going on, and he hoped and prayed that what he had in mind would work.

"Look, we don't want any trouble, for us or for you," Scott began to say, "You had help breaking out, didn't you?"

Peter absentmindedly observed his fingernails. "I may have made some new friends at Eichen House."

"Peter, you can't trust them. They're not who you think they are. They're using you to hurt us, all of us, and when they're done they'll kill you."

Peter only laughed. "Oh, I know exactly who they are and what they plan to do. But see, they don't know who I am…yet. And if I'm on their side, and help them kill all the supernatural beings of Beacon Hills, well my plan is back on track. I'll reveal myself, unleash my awesome wolf powers, destroy those idiots, and finally be free to rebuild my OWN race of supernatural; I'll be the ultimate alpha."

"You can't do this! You don't know what you're dealing with; you don't know what they're capable of!" Malia cried out. She was torn, feeling rage towards the monster in front of her and distress towards the father who was corrupted.

"Dear little girl, you should trust your father on this."

"You do realize we greatly outnumber you, don't you?" Kira stated in weak hope that she was right.

Unfortunately she wasn't. "See, that's the thing," Peter smirked, "These new associates introduced me to a few more friends who are more than willing to help me out." He howled, and suddenly large monstrous wolves shattered through the windows of the house. They landed on the floor, snarling at the teens.

Stiles gasped as a horrible thought reached his mind. "They're mutations," he whispered.

Peter sneered and gave his pets one command, "Kill them."

And battle commenced. Immediately, Scott and Malia transformed while Kira, Lydia, and Stiles used any kind of object to defend themselves against the possessed wolves. The wolves weren't actually too hard to ward off- the kids even killed a few -but they did serve as just enough of a distraction. In fact Scott was so busy dealing with one of them that he didn't notice that Peter had grabbed a sword stashed in a corner and was strategically sneaking up behind him.

Lydia suddenly got a chilling sensation that only meant one thing. She whipped around and saw Scott handling the last wolf alive. Yet Stiles was the name at the forefront of her mind. How was Stiles in trouble if the last wolf was battling Scott…?

She then noticed Stiles, his expression of horror pointed towards the opposite wall. She followed his gaze and saw Peter ready to pounce. She turned back around just in time to see Stiles jump behind his best friend.

"NO!" she cried out, and launched herself in front of Stiles just as Peter plunged the sword forward. The blade cut through her stomach, and she screamed- not as a banshee, but as a girl in tortuous pain.

"LYDIA!" Stiles yelled, catching her as she collapsed. He yanked the sword out and saw it sizzle; it was laced with wolfsbane. Scott whipped around, and when he saw what happened he let out a large roar that gave him the energy he needed to knock out the mutated wolf he was fighting once and for all.

Peter stepped forward as the battle stalled. He stood a mere few feet from Scott, who was glaring dangerously at the werewolf. "Silly friends you have, risking their lives to save yours. The weak ones too."

"My friends. Are not. Weak." Scott growled.

"You stupid, stupid boy. Do you honestly think you can defeat me, or the people who helped me? Your powers don't erase the fact that you're just _teenagers_. You may be supernatural, but you're still mortal. You think you know all about the supernatural world, but you have no idea what the rules are."

A gun clicked behind him. "Actually, if I were you, I'd rethink the validity of those rules," Jordan Parrish stated. He had stealthily snuck in and had now pulled his gun against Peter's neck.

Peter turned to face the deputy. "You?" he laughed darkly, "I don't know if you realize this, but you're putting yourself through a suicide mission."

Parrish remained calm, and everyone except Stiles and Scott worried that he wasn't aware of what he was getting himself into. "You're going to stop this," he commanded, "You're going to step outside and go with us willingly."

Peter guffawed. "What if I _don't_ go willingly? How exactly do you plan on stopping me?"

Parrish sighed, "I don't want to hurt you; it's not in my nature to." He glanced knowingly at Stiles before turning back. "I know you've had some pretty bad experiences with fire. But if you hurt ANYONE, I am not above adding to that."

Peter gave an incredulous look. "How are you an officer? You of all people should know that a gunshot doesn't actually set someone on fire-"

But before he even finished speaking, Jordan pointed his gun at an old fireplace on the wall, fired a shot that engulfed the wood in flames, and pointed it back at Peter, all in one swift movement.

"Try me." he dared.

Everyone stared at the deputy in bewilderment, not exactly sure what just happened. For the first time, Peter looked scared. "I don't understand…" he began softly.

"There are a lot of things you don't understand, Peter. There's more to this world than you realize. One of these _teenagers_ knows that all too well. And so do these so-called "doctors" you're supposedly friends with. They're plotting something dark, something you're not prepared to face. So just leave with us, and no one gets hurt, including you."

Anger bubbled within Peter, but he remained cool. "As you wish, _sir_ ," he said snarkily with a deathly glint in his eyes. He turned and stepped out of the house.

"You're letting him escape?" said Scott.

"Don't worry, I brought backup," assured Parrish, then he noticed an injured Lydia leaning against the wall. "Lydia?" he said with a horrified expression. He rushed over to the fallen girl who was still supported by Stiles. "Deputy," she voiced when she recognized Jordan's face.

After gentle prodding, Stiles handed her over to the deputy, reluctant to let go. Parrish gently rested her on his lap, cradling her head in his right arm as though he was holding a baby. Scott arrived and took her hand in his, trying to siphon off as much pain as he could.

"Deputy, whoever you are- whatever you are -you are not a monster," she whispered, voice weak but eyes strong.

"Lydia-"

"Promise me you won't give up on yourself, or underestimate your abilities. Just promise me that."

"Of course," whispered Parrish.

The young girl chuckled softly as a sensation swept over her. "I guess an advantage of being a banshee is knowing when you're about to die." she stated.

"No- no you're not going to die. I'm not going to let you die." The deputy's eyes traveled down to Lydia's stomach where the wound from the sword was present. Tears began to well in his eyes at the sight…tears. A thought suddenly struck him, and his eyes widened. Was it possible? Could it work? He had never done it before; there was no need to. What if he failed? He again looked at the young, vulnerable face and realized he didn't have the option to fail. He had to try.

"You're going to be ok," he said, this time with more resolve. He maintained a strong hold on the teen and squeezed his eyes shut. _Emotion_ he thought; _draw from emotion_. Which was definitely not a problem tonight. Tears started flowing, but they didn't feel right. He was just about to give up hope when suddenly he felt one tear trickling down the side of his face, one that was rather distinct from the others. As it parted from his skin, Jordan opened his eyes just in time to see the tear land directly on Lydia's wound. He froze in anticipation, and after a few moments he could barely hear a quiet sizzle. Anxious, he looked back at Lydia's face, hoping to see some expression of relief or strength there. But her eyes had closed, and after releasing a breath, Lydia lay still in his arms.

Parrish was mortified. He couldn't comprehend the sight that was before him. "No, Lydia…" he sobbed. Stiles abruptly placed a firm hand on his arm, and the deputy turned to look at him. "Wait," said the boy, his gaze never leaving the young girl; he had sensed something.

Parrish looked back at her face, then looked back to the wound. Weirdly enough, it seemed to be rising. How could it be ris-?

It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't just the wound but the entire stomach that was rising, which meant that Lydia was breathing again. He looked back to her face, waiting patiently, and soon the young girl's eyes fluttered open. In that moment she looked ironically like Sleeping Beauty, gentle and peaceful as though she had rested for one hundred years. "Lydia?" Stiles asked, "Are you ok? How do you feel?"

Lydia took a moment to assess herself. "New," she finally answered, completely astonished at her response. Scott, just as confused, carefully lifted a section of her shirt to reveal the area of her stomach where the wound was, previously. "It's gone," he breathed, "The wound from the sword, it's gone. There's not even a scar."

Jordan made a noise somewhere between a laugh, a gasp, and a squeak. He couldn't believe that it actually worked, that _his_ tear actually saved Lydia's life. She turned her head to face him, and the two made eye contact. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she connected the dots one by one, from the fire to the teardrop. He didn't need to confess for her to finally understand the truth.

"You're a phoenix," she said in awe.

All he could do was nod.

"But how is that possible?"

Parrish tried to think of a logical answer, but he knew there was only one word to explain it. "Magic," he said simply, a small smile growing on his face.

Lydia's eyes widened as she processed this revelation. She abruptly tried to sit up, but the three guys surrounding her forced her back down. "Hey, hey," Parrish chuckled, still teary-eyed, "Don't strain yourself. It's ok; we're all ok-"

The sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the house. "What the-" Parrish started before another bang resonated from somewhere outside. Stiles jumped in panic. "Dad," he stammered, and forgetting everything else, he rushed outside.

"Stiles!" Scott cried out and followed him. Parrish was quick to follow suit, asking Malia and Kira to tend to their friend while he checked out what the commotion was.

Outside, the front yard was surrounded by police cars. Parrish and the sheriff agreed that the latter would wait outside with the rest of the force to catch Peter whether he was willing to go or trying to escape. However, Peter was smart, and when he left the house he stayed hidden, surveying the situation before plotting an attack. Now he was in full werewolf form, ready to take out the entire force. Scott shifted to fight, and Stiles ran over to protect his dad.

"Stiles, you're gonna get hurt!" the sheriff exclaimed.

"I don't care! I'm fighting this nut job with you!"

"I knew that! But you're not armed!" Still on his guard, the sheriff rushed to his car, yanked something out of it, and ran back, tossing a baseball bat to his son. Stiles stared at it.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"Like I'm handing a gun to my seventeen-year old son!"

"Dad, I'm almost eighteen-" A loud roar resonated from Peter as he effortlessly avoided an officer's bullet and swatted him to the ground. "-But I guess that's not much of a difference," he finished in fear.

Parrish meanwhile stood frozen, unsure of what to do. He couldn't shift in front of all these officers. Then again if he didn't they may not live to see anything. He settled with running out and joining his colleagues in gunfire. Much as they tried to weaken the werewolf though, he was simply too strong and would keep beating them down every time they stood against him.

Sudden rage boiled within the sheriff; these poor officers had no idea what lunatic they were facing, and he was fed up with it all.

"Give me that," he muttered dangerously, grabbing the bat from Stiles. "Dad…?" his son called out, anxiety increasing rapidly. Before he could stop him, his father had run up behind Peter and whacked him in the back with the baseball bat, roaring in agitation.

Peter toppled over, momentarily shocked. He spun around to find the source of the attack, and when he noticed Stilinski, he slowly rose, his steel blue eyes gleaming treacherously. He emitted a low growl and crouched, preparing to pounce on the sheriff.

"Come on," the sheriff muttered, still gripping the bat, "Come at me; I dare you."

Peter leapt, and Stilinski held up the bat in one hand and his gun in the other. But before either had a chance to attack the other, Jordan threw himself in between the two in a tenacious effort to defend his captain. And as Peter struck him with his claws, the deputy burst into flames, blasting the werewolf back. Surprisingly the flames surrounded Stilinski but never touched him, shielding him from any harm. The phoenix that had now taken Jordan's place shrilled, its musical shriek piercing Peter with cold, disturbing fear. Peter howled in enraged defense, though a hint of fright could be detected in his voice, and before anyone could stop him, he scurried off into the darkness of the night. A darkness that was now restored, for after nearly blinding everyone with its brilliant light, the phoenix flame was extinguished, and all that remained now was a solemn pile of ash laying gently on the ground.

"No," came a whisper from the doorway. Getting the cold sensation for a third time that night, Lydia had forced herself up and rushed across the hall, despite the resistance from the other girls. All three had reached the doorway right before Peter and the sheriff faced off. They saw everything.

The sheriff kneeled down, trembling. After all they had gone through, he refused to believe it could end like this. "Jordan," he murmured, resting a hand on the pile of ash. Stiles slowly approached his father. He knelt beside him, eyes fixed on the ash with an intense gaze. A startling feeling overcame the sheriff; he couldn't really explain it, but it almost seemed as though a reassuring energy was radiating from his son and enveloping him, comforting him. "Stiles?" he questioned.

"Shh," his son responded. He sat there, waiting, while the others watched from afar. "Dad, could you tell the others to go home?"

The sheriff paused a moment, but nodded. He stood up to talk to his colleagues. "You guys head home; I've got it from here," he said gravely.

"But sir-" one of them began, searching for an answer to the perplexing event that just happened. But upon the sheriff's stern gaze, he stopped and obeyed, heading to his car and motioning to the others that it was time to leave. Stilinski shook his head. They'd probably wake up tomorrow and think that all of this was just a dream. He returned to his son, still kneeling beside the pile of ash. Some strange part of him was still hoping he survived, even though every bit of physical evidence argued against that. Emotion flooded him, but he didn't want to deal with it right now. He was about to try to convince Stiles that maybe they should go home, that there was nothing they could do, when he stopped. He could have sworn he saw a bit of ash stir.

"Stiles…?" he inquired again, nervous about what was going on. Then he saw it. One solitary finger emerged from the ash, followed by four others, until a full hand stretched above the pile, trying to reach for something, or someone.

Immediately Stiles leapt forward and attacked the pile, scattering the ashes every which way. On and on he dusted, until finally a young man surfaced, coughing up soot but otherwise healthy in every way. Without caring how it looked, Stiles grasped the man's face in his hands and stared into his eyes, which to his immense joy were a bright, burning orange. In spite of everything that happened that night, Stiles laughed.

"Happy Birthday, Deputy." he joked lamely.

Jordan took a minute to take in his surroundings; no doubt his exertion had left him a little disoriented. Once he got his bearings, he looked back at Stiles and returned the laugh, grabbing his arm in support. "Happy Birthday to me indeed." he joked back.

Sheriff Stilinski crouched down beside the deputy. He was so overblown with emotion that he didn't know what to do with himself. He recomposed. "Look, you may be a great partner in crime, but if you pull something like this again, I'll kill you. Which I'm fine with because you won't actually die anyway." The two shared a watery laugh at that. But then Jordan's face became serious as he stated a concrete truth with a bittersweet smile, "Sheriff, it's my job to protect you. Nothing will ever stop that."

The sheriff laid an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "I know," he said, not sure whether to feel touched or honored or just plain mystified at how he could have possibly been blessed with such an incredible friend. So instead he merely smiled. "Thank you."

"Deputy?" Lydia called out from the doorway. Malia and Kira were still paralyzed, still reeling from the revelation that the deputy was actually a magical firebird, but Lydia had starting moving towards him. Parrish stood up in slight confusion, about to say something, but Lydia got to him first, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

"You died." she stated, "I saw you die; I _felt_ you die."

"I know," he replied, sad that she had to witness something that tragic.

"But you came back. Because you're a phoenix, you came back. You were reborn."

"In a way," he chuckled, still processing the fact that he actually died and came back to life.

She squeezed him even tighter. "I am _so_ proud of you, Deputy Parrish," she said, her voice alight with happiness. She looked over his shoulder at the young teen standing next to his dad. "And of Stiles," she added, flashing the boy a wide grin. Stiles grinned back, expecting a full interrogation from the banshee tomorrow at school. He mentally chuckled to himself. "Well I'm not going to allow myself to be left out of this," he declared, and he promptly ran over and tackled the phoenix and the banshee in his own giant hug.

The sheriff shot them a funny look before resigning. "Oh, what the hell," he said and joined the group hug, ruffling his son's and his deputy's hair as he did. Soon everyone else joined in, which ended up toppling the whole group to the ground. They all laughed loudly, immersing themselves in the first moment of pure joy they had had in a long while. Soon they recovered from their mirth and got up from the grass, some giggling as they realized they had accidentally covered themselves in ash.

"So, Deputy Parrish, after tonight you DEFINITELY deserve a good night's sleep!" Stiles grinned, dusting off the ash on his shirt.

"Jordan."

Stiles looked up in surprise. "Sorry?"

"I appreciate the address, but if I'm going to be a part of this pack-" he nervously shot an inquisitive look at Scott, and to his happiness the alpha smiled and gave him an approving nod, "-you're calling me Jordan."

Both Stiles and his father wore warm smiles. "All right, Jordan," the young teen tested out the new address, "it looks like we have a rough war ahead of us. Think you can handle it?"

Jordan responded by taking a step back and throwing out his arms, which then blossomed into cocoons of fire. Everyone beamed at the deputy, knowing that they now had an ally stronger than anyone could imagine. Parrish smirked back, now looking forward to taking on his role in the supernatural (and magical) world. "I was born ready," he declared.

And all of a sudden it didn't matter anymore what evil forces they had to face; it didn't matter how many times they would have to risk their lives for the town and for each other. Because no matter what, they would always have each other. They would always believe in each other. And no matter who or what would try to burn them to the ground, they would ALWAYS find a way to rise above the ashes.

 _"We will rise; we are young we are the dreamers_

 _We will fly; when the world will not believe us_

 _We will rise above the ashes, and before this whole life passes us by,_

 _You and I, we will_

 _Rise"_

 **The End :)**

(But wait, there's more :D!)


	10. BONUS :)! (The Discovery)

_**Hi :)! And so FINALLY concludes Rise Above the Ashes :D! Thank you SOOO much to everyone who loved and reviewed and supported this story wholeheartedly; being relatively new to the FanFiction community and even making my ideas and head canons public, it truly means the world to me that people actually do see merit in this story!**_

 _ **This bonus chapter doesn't really add to the previous plot, but it uses the events from this past story to formulate the major discovery that Stiles and Scott are about to make ;). This is basically another idea that I've been toying with lately, something that I think would be really cool to implement in the series, especially with Stiles being the human being that's actually part of a supernatural pack. Also, I truly do love the friendship between Scott and Stiles, and it's honestly my favorite relationship on the show, so I liked writing this as a sweet brotherly scene between the two.**_

 _ **Let me know if you would want to see this continue as another story; if I do decide to write it, it would be a Scotlinski centered fic (Yes, that is my ship name for them and I'm not changing it one bit :) ), but I'll try to include the rest of the pack in there (including Liam, cause I didn't realize till 2/3 into this story that he doesn't exist in it; my excuse is that he wasn't ready to fight these battles yet :P.). Also it would follow my idea on the villainous doctors and the whole "supernatural vs. magic vs. science" thing, so there's that. Anyway, hope you enjoy this final installment! Thank you so much again for your great and wonderful support :)!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything officially associated with it. What I do own is this story that I've invested so much time and work into, and I am darn proud of it :)**_

 **Chapter BONUS :)!**

Stiles tossed and turned in his bed. He thought that after all the exhausting events of the past few weeks, he'd immediately pass out. But he was kept constantly awake by nightmares of Peter gaining mutated magical powers and ripping people's hearts out and of evil doctors operating on him and sticking all sorts of toxic objects inside him. Malia wasn't there with him; after their latest encounter with her dad it was understandable that she needed to be alone for a while. Besides, she wouldn't have been able to help him. He scuffled around restless, needing something very specific to comfort him, but what?

Suddenly he heard tapping on his window. His first instinct was that Malia made a surprising recovery and came back, but that didn't sound right. Alarmed, he wondered if some dark spirit had finally come to attack him. Grudgingly he rolled over, but once his eyes focused, his body relaxed a bit. It wasn't a dark spirit at all; it was just his best friend.

At his nod, Scott opened the window and climbed into Stiles's room. "Can't sleep either?" he inquired, though he already knew the answer.

Stiles shook his head and tried to ignore the weird feeling of his heart warming up at the sight of his best friend. "I'm so on edge. Things aren't boring anymore, sure, but I've forgotten how stressful it is to be so terrified all the time. And it's worse now because we're responsible for more people." His mind immediately went to Jordan Parrish, the newest addition to the McCall pack.

"I know, me too." Scott scratched his head, suddenly becoming awkward. "As weird as it sounds, I couldn't even try to go to sleep. But not like insomnia or being scared or anything, but like I was _missing_ something. I- I dunno. And I had this weird feeling that you weren't ok either, so I thought I'd come over, see how you are, just talk or, whatever."

Stiles winced empathetically; usually he was the one to ramble, not Scott. "You're right," he stated simply, "I'm not ok."

Scott lightly chuckled in spite of himself. "Neither am I," he admitted. The two boys sighed, wondering how much strength they would need for the oncoming war and why in the world they were worrying about it now. "May I?" asked Scott, pointing to Stiles's bed. Stiles scooted over to the right side in response, and Scott smiled softly as he crawled under the covers beside his best friend. Neither boy admitted it out loud, but the truth of the matter was that neither boy wanted to be alone that night. And somehow, lying there side by side lifted all anxiety off of both of them. Tiredness finally consumed Scott, and Stiles was no longer plagued by fear. He was slightly confused, but didn't question it. He turned his head to look at his best friend, who was already fast asleep. Scott, who had always believed in him, who even when he gained supernatural powers refused to leave his best friend behind. Scott was loyal and kind and the best friend he could have ever asked for. And all of a sudden he knew that they would have the strength to fight this war. The numbers of the pack may have increased over the years, but he and Scott were their own pack from day one; they could rely on each other to face any challenge thrown their way. They were each other's phoenixes. And with that wonderful thought, Stiles smiled and sunk back into his pillow, finally drifting into a peaceful sleep.

Oddly enough, Stiles woke up early that morning, around 5:45 a.m., despite his late bed time. He tried to go back to sleep, but he was completely awake, his body strangely fully rested. So he gave up, and after a quick glance at a Scott still sound asleep, he smiled to himself and rolled out of bed, shuffling contentedly to the bathroom. He felt a little different today for some reason, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He grabbed his toothbrush, lathered it with toothpaste, and started brushing his teeth. Humming contentedly, he looked up at the mirror and stopped. He peered more closely at his reflection, and his eyes widened. Spitting out his mouthful of toothpaste foam, he shook his head violently, thinking he was just seeing things, that it had to be some sort of hallucination, that maybe it was just the effects of the nightmares. But when he looked back up, nothing had changed. Stiles stared at himself incredulously; how was this even remotely possible? He hadn't even come in contact with any other creature besides Parrish, and surely _he_ couldn't be the cause of this. Unless Scott somehow bizarrely attacked him in the middle of the night; but surely he would have known, would have felt something if that happened. And even then, why were they suddenly _this_ color?

"Morning, Stiles," Scott mumbled cheerfully, walking into the bathroom and grabbing the toothbrush that always sat in the toothbrush holder for whenever the teen wolf spontaneously slept over. Stiles immediately shut his eyes. "You know what's weird? I got so little sleep last night, but it was the best sleep I've ever gotten! I don't even know how long it's been since I slept that well. Hey, you ok? What's wrong?" He noticed Stiles's pained expression.

Stiles turned around to face his best friend. Maybe when he opened his eyes, they'd return to normal, and he'd just decide that he was imagining things. But when he did open them, Scott gasped, and he knew that was not the case.

And Scott's eyes morphed into a brilliant luminescent red to match his brother's.


End file.
